


How To Be A Great Damsel In Distress: A Guide by Jackson Wang

by jwang2017



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Anxiety, Attempted Kidnapping, Everyone Is Gay, Jealous Mark, KIM YUGYEOM/JACKSON WANG (mild!!!), M/M, MARK TUAN/JACKSON WANG (PAST!!), Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Not What It Looks Like, Panic Attacks, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Villains to Heroes, attempt at action sequences, destroying cities one explosion at a time, idk - Freeform, jackbum - Freeform, jjp friendship, markson friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2020-06-29 10:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19828402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jwang2017/pseuds/jwang2017
Summary: There were a couple of things that Jackson was fluent in: three languages, the art of sabre fencing, writing music, and getting kidnapped. Honestly, he could probably put all those experiences on a resume if there was a college scholarship for "art, athletics, and survival tactics".Or: Mark Tuan (AKA Red Dragon) is a local superhero in Chicago with two main rivals, Dark Soul and Project J. When Mark is not fighting epic battles against the villainous duo, he acts as a senior attending the local high school, JYP International Prep.What does this have to do with Jackson, you ask? Well, he just so happens to be Mark's best friend attending the same high school as a junior. Oh, and it seems that the villains know about Jackson's friendship with our hero? Hmmm... I wonder(loosely based off of Megamind and the Avengers LMAO, let me know about spelling errors)





	1. Chapter 1

Alright, so this is my first story ever in this fandom. Please, be gentle! Let me know how I can improve and if there are any spelling errors!

Here's some background:

-Set in Chicago, because it is the city I am most familiar with and I didn't want to mangle Korean cities if I haven't experienced the culture!

-Story will contain some made up places, events, and people. Just like in the movies, kids, "the story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred."

-This story may jump around during different chapters! I will try to write up everyone's origin story ASAP but I want to keep it vague for the time being (hopefully will keep everyone interested ;) )

-if requested, I will publish other mini-chapters that are related to this story but didn't make the cut. LMK

-Other members of GOT7 will appear!

-Try to guess who the villains are. It ain't hard :)

Characters (so far):

Mark: Lived in America when he was younger and moved to Korea when he was 10 (changing Mark's timeline, obviously, because this is an AU)  
There, he had a bad run in with a powerful entity and went missing for a week. He ended up accidentally outsmarting it and gained powers once the entity was defeated. He now has dragon-like qualities (superhearing/vision, controls fire and can fly). Parents moved back to America because they thought he was kidnapped, moved to Chicago because *magically* a penthouse apartment opened up in the heart of the city. Being wealthy people, the Tuans decided to take the deal and began their new lives in a strange area.

-Mark is a senior at JYP International Prep. Got into the high school after showing incredible talent for linguistics and science on the entry exam.

-During the school hours, Mark is pretty quiet and laid back. However, once he's in his suit and his true powers rise to the surface, he feels emboldened and becomes a bit of a Spiderman-like chatterbox, always ready with a quick retort and entrenched sarcasm. His two personas seem different, but Red Dragon always says what the inner Mark Tuan is thinking

-sidenote: will probably write origin story in depth later, but will focus on the more Jackson centered plot for now.

Jackson: Grew up in Hong-Kong, but decided to attend high school in America to see if he wanted to pursue a future career in fencing. Since JYP international is world renowned for it's athletics program (and connections to elite athletic colleges/universities), Jackson decided to say goodbye to his life and family in Hong Kong and travel to America. He entered the school freshman year and befriended Mark almost immediately after discovering they were both in two of the same classes together (U.S. History and Beginner Korean). The two found out they were international students and hit it off, becoming inseparable. Jackson accidentally found out about Mark's superpowers during one of Mark's battles (figuring out whether this will be a side-story or incorporated as a flashback later) but the two became even closer once Jackson knew everything.

-Junior at JYP International

-Always the damsel in distress. Frankly, Jackson is embarrassed the amount of times he's been kidnapped. Jackson hypothesizes that Mark's enemies discovered Red Dragon has a connection to the one Jackson Wang (hmmmm) and chose Jackson as the "victim" to try to defeat our hero. 30% of the time, Jackson escapes by himself, but usually Mark has to rescue him.

Dark Soul: Has electric powers. His hands glow a bright, whitish blue when he's charging his powers and can aim bolts of condensed electricity at his rivals, which can shock, stun or kill depending on power level. Can also manipulate the electricity generated by the city, which we will get into more depth later.

Project J: Has telekinetic abilities, genius level intellect and superstrength. 

Both villains origin stories will be explained, not to fear!

JAEBUM, JINYOUNG, YOUNGJAE, YUGYEOM AND BAMBAM WILL APPEAR! I've got plans

Italicized words are the character's thoughts

(words in brackets are usually flashbacks or author's notes. Will try to distinguish properly)

Questions? Comments? Concerns? Feel free to let me know!  
Originally on wattpad


	2. Property Damage and Raising Taxes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heed the tags. Originally posted on wattpad, but ya boi finally got an AO3 invitation! Should I have waited to post this work until I received an invitation? Probably....  
> Did I?  
> No.  
> Should I have cut down the chapter so something less than 3,914 words so I can spread out the events of this story?  
> Maybe...  
> Is the next chapter longer?  
> Most definitely.

A hush fell over the gym as Jackson and his opponent took their starting stances on opposite sides of the mat. At this point, with ten seconds left, there was no question that Jackson would take home the first-place trophy. With the other contender four points behind, Jackson felt confident in his ability to defend against the upcoming attacks and mentally prepared himself to push for another point to end the match. He could feel the stares of the audience members to the right of him and the judge's keen eyes to his left. His teammate's cheers and shouts of encouragement were a dull roar in Jackson's ears, with his focus solely on the barley perceptible shifts of his opponent's body. As it were, the other seemed to favor his left side to which Jackson adjusted his offensive strategy accordingly. As hot as the gymnasium was, Jackson could barely feel anything except the weight of the sabre in his hand. 

A flash of red registered in Jackson's peripheral and he let a small smile grace his face under his helmet. Mark had finally arrived and took up his usual front row spot on the bleachers.

_Just in time to see me win_

As the ref signaled for quiet in the gym and the area was silent once more, a faint rumbling sound could be heard coming from beyond the walls of the room. A murmur broke out amongt the crowd members and just as the ref was about to start what should have been the last round of the tournament, the wall behind the judges table blew inwards. Concrete, drywall, and floorboards went flying in all directions, the force of the blast knocking the people nearest off their feet with the judges getting the brunt of the pressure.

All of this registered a second too late for Jackson, who was woefully unprepared to be sent flying just as he was about to attack. A startled shout involuntarily left his lips as Jackson was sent careening through the air, headfirst towards the smooth, wooden floor.

 _Honestly, I should have seen this coming_ was Jackson's last thought as his head made contact with the floor's wood paneling and the world went black.

* * *

_Jackson is going to be so pissed!_ Mark thought to himself as he flew towards the direction of the recreation center where his best friend's match was held. He had just finished with a minor robbery in the Rogers Park area when he realized how extraordinarily late he was. His cardinal red super-suit was a stark contrast to the blue sky above him and the speed at which he flew made his hair stick back against his head. A black mask protected his eyes against the pressure of the wind, allowing him to search the neighborhoods quickly for the familiar sports complex below. As he weaved in and out of the high rises of Chicago, he quickly checked his watch. Realizing the match was almost over, Mark desperately increased his speed, dangerously close to flying into a band of pigeons along the way.

Finally, Mark spotted the familiar sign "Halas Sport Center" after flying for what seemed like an eternity. The Loyola facility was a welcomed sight and Mark quickly landed in a nearby alley, hidden from traffic cameras and people's perspectives. From behind a garbage can, with a flick of his wrist, his superhero costume molded back under his skin and in its place, his civilians' clothes reappeared. As Mark rushed out of the alley, to anyone's eyes, he was just another college student making a mad dash through the city.

Jogging up the steps to the gym, Mark quickly adjusted his navy blue, JYP Prep t-shirt and black, ripped jeans. His hair was a lost cause, but Mark tried to adjust his red locks into an "overslept bedhead" look instead of a "long haired dog with his head out of the window" vibe.

"Mark-hyung! You're so late! Jackson-hyung is almost done with his match!" The receptionist yells as soon as he sees Mark walk through the doors. Upon seeing Mark's startled expression, the receptionist rolls his eyes and gestures down the hallway on Mark's left. "Down this hall, on your left! Maybe you'll see the last couple of seconds."

Spurred on by the receptionists commanding tone, Mark takes off down the hall, throwing a "Thank you!" over his shoulder as he rushes to the tournament. The familiarity of the kid at the front jogged a faint memory. Were they in the same Korean class? Probably, since the kid used honorifics to address Mark. What was his name? Jin-something?

With a shake of his head, Mark dispels the nagging thoughts from his head and races towards his destination.

A couple of heads turn towards him as he bursts through the doors of the gym, but he notices that most of the people's attention is directed at the two players in the center of the room. Internally, Mark thanks every deity he can think of that he didn't disrupt Jackson's focus and entered before the next round begun. Luckily, there are enough people in the audience to provide a buffer for Mark's abrupt entrance. Quickly, Mark takes his seat at the front and center of the bleachers, with only a few people grumbling at him as he walks by. Just as he reads the point counter displaying "Wang: 14, Rodgers 10" in proud, red lights, the wall blows in.

Time moves slower after that. Mark stares in horrified fascination as the judges, gym equipment, and tournament displays are sent head-over-heels through the air. Dust, debris and rubble begin creating a smokey atmosphere in the once pristine area, while the coaches and fencing teams are roughly shoved to the ground. Mark can do nothing but watch as Jackson is catapulted into the air with a terrified shout, and the sound of his head hitting the ground creating a sick feeling in the pit of Mark's stomach. He feels the pressure of the air hit him and the rest of the audience, pinning them all against the steel seats for a brief moment. He registers all this right as two shadows step through the dust elicited from the blast in tandem with the beginnings of the screams of the civilians.

With people running every which way, the injured either screaming on the ground or knocked out on the floor, Mark begins his tactical reconnaissance to find the best way to control the situation. Jackson's unconscious form and the gaping hole in the far wall does nothing for Mark's anxiety, but he tries his best to put his emotions behind him.

 _First order of business: Suit up!_ Mark thinks as he joins the throngs of people racing for the exit. For now, he is not in a place to help people escape. Every second not suiting up leads to more casualties in the future (as Mark learned the hard way). He tries his best not to get pushed around by the swarm of fleeing people and, once out of the gym, ducks into the nearest doorway he sees. Conveniently, he finds himself in an empty bathroom. Racing into one of the stalls and locking the door, he takes a deep breath (which he immediately regrets. God, why are people so gross in America?) and lets his clothes mold back into his skin. The fabric is soon replaced by his super suit, covering him from neck to feet, with the white letters "RD" emblazoned on his chest. His mask drops over his eyes, encompassing most of his face with the exception of his mouth and chin. Once the transition is complete, he races out of the stall…

And freezes once he sees two girls, who were definitely not there before, huddled into the corner. As their eyes widen in shock and their mouths drop open in preparation to scream, Mark quickly puts his finger to his lips.

"Shhhhh! Don't scream! You're fine, we're fine! I am so sorry; I didn't notice this was even the girl's bathroom!" Mark whisper yells, making the calm-down motion with his hands as the girls look on in shock at the superhero standing before them. After a few seconds of radio silence from the traumatized individuals, Mark awkwardly takes a few steps towards the door. "You should probably, definitely get out of here because there are villains outside and this whole building might collapse. So unless you want to transport yourself into the second dimension, I suggest you run before you get crushed!" Mark's comment seems to put the girls in motion, quickly getting up from their position on the ground and racing out of the door.

Mark breathes a sigh of relief as the door closes behind the two civilians. _I have legitimately never been more embarrassed in my life._ Mark tries to shrug the embarrassment out of his body as he rushes out of the bathroom and towards the villains in the gymnasium.

* * *

For the second time that day, Mark is suited up; except this time, he's actually going to be fighting instead of "irresponsibly using his powers for personal gain" as Jackson would so often tease him for (this teasing was usually followed by Jackson begging Mark to fly him to Asia.

'Mark! Think of all of the hot people we could pick up over there!'

'Jackson... I'm pretty sure both here and there your flirting skills are sub-par at best. You'd have to go to an island of uncivilized cavemen to find someone who would date you."

'... Why are we friends again?')

Once at the door of the gym, Mark tries to subtly peak through the glass window to see into the room. He quickly scans the facility, seeing an assortment of people on the ground, some covered in blood, others with dust and some with both. He spots Jackson laying on his side, his white fencing helmet tinted red around his head from the impact against the floor. His blood goes cold when he sees that his best friend still isn't moving, his chest barely rising and falling.

 _Why didn't I see this coming? I should have been faster, I should have been better..._ The self-deprecating thoughts attack his mind, but Mark quickly shuts them out. _Save it for after the fight._

A movement to the left of Jack son catches Marks attention, and he sees the two figures standing scarily close to the fencer. Their entire bodies were covered with matte black armored suits, with the seams glowing a faint white through the dust that was still shrouding the room. Their motorcycle-esque helmets made their faces indistinguishable, but Mark recognized their outfits immediately; Dark Soul and Project J. He observes as Dark Soul gestures wildly in Jackson's general direction, his hands glowing a faint blue, while Project J crosses his arms in a ... judgmental way? With his enhanced hearing, Mark picks up the tail end of their apparent argument.

"...too big! I told you he would get knocked out!" Dark Soul yells at his partner, worriedly pacing back and forth around Jackson's prone form.

"You said you wanted to blow down the wall, so that's what I did! I used the correct amount of force and pressure distribution to create a hole in the wall so that we could enter in from the outside. You were the one who decided to make a dramatic entrance, not me! I said we should walk into the building, like normal people, but NOOOOOO, you wanted to be extra and make our own entrance." Project J exclaimed, crossing his arms and seeming to challenge the other to try and correct him. Dark Soul throws up his hands and makes an aggravated noise. 

"That was only because YOU wanted to test out your new device! 'It'll make chaos so much easier!' you said. 'Blow peoples minds' you said. Well, you almost blew everyone's minds OUT, so congratulations, you made that dream come true!" Project J scoffed as Dark Soul berated him, dropping his arms to his sides and allowing Mark to get a glimpse at the object in the other's hand. 

"This ray gun has multiple settings and can do so much more than generate a concentrated, sonic blast! It will blow people's minds... with a few more tweaks to make it more of a metaphorical 'blown' instead of physical." Mark watches as Project J fiddles with what looked like the settings on the ray gun's side. At first glance, the gun looked like a handheld, silver water pistol with a clear barrel containing a glowing orange goo.

_Must be a power source…_

With that thought in mind, Mark continues surveying the scene, searching for any other tricks Project J might have in store. The two villains voices become fainter, and Mark turns just in time to see Dark Soul bending down towards Jackson, reaching his still glowing hand out to him.

 _Not on my watch!_ Mark thought to himself. With a huge kick aimed at the doors, Mark burst through the entryway, making Dark Soul jump away from Jackson in shock. With just a though, Mark rises slowly into the air in front of the two dark suited people before him.

"You should know by now not to mess with my city or my friends." Mark drawls out as his hands light up in flames. Project J quickly hostlers his weapon and levitates himself into the air to meet Mark, while Dark Soul charges up his suit until it starts pulsing a pure, glowing white energy at it's seams. 

"You should've expected this, Red Dragon. We've behaved for about a week and we got tired of playing nice." Dark Soul aims his glowing hands at the superhero before him, taking a quick glance around him before refocusing his attention towards the superhero.

With his fire spreading up to his elbows, Mark tries to quickly calculate the best way to lure the villainous duo outside, protect the civilians and make sure that Jackson isn't kidnapped (again). He hesitates just a bit too long and Dark Soul hits him with his blue, electrified energy orbs. The impact to his chest sends him flying back into the wall, creating a crater with spiderweb cracks around the edges. In a daze, Mark extracts himself from the impact zone and quickly dodges the oncoming blow from Project J, Mark's head barely escaping the incoming fist fist. Mark flies a safe distance away from the other and watches with a faint sense of horror as the spiderweb cracks get even bigger surrounding the impact of Project J's failed attack.

 _This whole section of the building is gonna go down;_ with this realization, Mark decided it was high time that they took this fight outside.

"Gentlemen, I don't know about you all, but I think it's getting a bit stuffy in here. How about we take this outside for a nice breather, hmmm?" And with that, Mark aimed a fireball at each of the villains, missing Project J but hitting Dark Soul right in the face. Dark Soul crumbled to the ground while Project J flew right at Mark.

 _CrapCrapCrapCrapCrap_ became Mark's internal mantra as he flew towards the villains self-created entryway, zooming out towards the city with Project J right at his heels. Mark felt the tug of Project J's telekinetic abilities at his boots, so he pushed himself to fly faster, arcing over Loyola campus and heading east towards the lake. Within seconds, Red Dragon and Project J faced each other, both hovering a couple of feet above the rolling waves of Lake Michigan. Mark could see college students starting to gather around the edge of the lake, eager to watch the battle take place with their phones out videotaping the encounter. Mark didn't hear any loud crumbling sound of a building collapsing, and he sent a tiny prayer that the gym could support itself long enough for Mark to defeat his foe.

 _Alright, let's settle this_ , Mark thought inwardly as he prepared himself for battle.

"Do we always have to meet like this," Mark called out to Project J, "You, with your mind powers, me with my dragon powers. You and Dark Soul, creating chaos and destruction, me fighting you both and defeating you all every single time. Don't you get tired of losing?"

Instead of responding, Project J extended his hand out towards the crowd. Suddenly, a huge boulder came flying out of the ground, knocking students off their feet. Twisting his body, Mark evaded the boulder, sending a fire blast Project J's way. Soon enough, they were exchanging blow after blow, each trying to knock the other down into the water. Once Mark felt the tug of Project J's telekinetic abilities, he would aim a blast of fire at the villain in order to break his concentration. What Mark, unfortunately, didn't realize, was that Project J was tactically creating a pile of rocks, trees, and other various objects underneath the water from where their battle was being held. While Mark was concentrating on breaking Project J's hold on the various physical objects he was throwing, Project J used this as a chance to launch a surprise attack on an unsuspecting Mark. He gathered all the matter he had collected during the battle and molded the various components into a giant fist. Rising the form up out of the water, Project J aimed the giant fist at Red Dragon, who realized too late what he allowed Project J to do.

The amalgamation of objects hit Red Dragon square in the midriff, projecting him straight into the lake. With the combined force of Project J's attack and the impact of his body against the water, Mark's last comprehensible thought became _Well, at least my hair won't look as crazy..._ as his body sank towards the bottom and his mind went blank.

* * *

**(Back at the gym)**

Dark Soul woke up with a burning pain in his chest and hearing the creak of what sounded like an ancient house getting buffered by the wind. He slowly opened his eyes, his memories coming back to him piece by piece. He was spread eagle on the floor of the gym, _The gym we were targeting,_ He thought to himself. The burning pain in his chest was not heart burn ( _Take that, Project J! I eat healthy... sometimes...)_ but was from Red Dragon's fire blast. Using his arms to push himself into a sitting position, Dark Soul inspected his suit. Aside from a few singe marks, the updated suit looked like it took the damage well. Internally, Dark Soul thanked Project J for updating their armor as he surveyed the damage around him. The ancient creaking was not, in fact, the noise of an archaic building, but was an indicator of the inevitable collapse of the facility he was currently in. Dark Soul glanced behind him and watched with an amused smile as the crater's outer cracks slowly expand. 

_If the hole in the wall is my fault, then the crater in the wall is yours,_ Dark soul thought to himself maneuvering up to a standing position with a wince. He took note of all of the people on the floor around him, most of whom were fencers, coaches, refs and judges that were all primarily impacted by the blast. Feeling a small pang of regret, Dark Soul finally, he allowed himself to check over ( _not check out...)_ Jackson Wang, the always-a-damsel in distress.

Even though the name implies a certain element of heartlessness, Dark Soul was actually very wary of hurting any civilian. He and Project J made an effort to attack places with low amounts of pedestrians in attendance, with one of them battling the hero while the other made off with either the "damsel", their main target, or both. If they were ever near a highly populated zone, they would make the conscious move to push their battles towards either the lake or an open area.

The situation they were in now, however, was mostly accidental. Neither villain had the urge to create chaos that day, but somehow, chaos found them all by itself. 

_That stupid ray gun is to blame..._

Nobody would believe the pair if they claimed this catastrophe was an accident. Project J didn't mean to forget that his ray gun was in his bag before he headed off to school. All it took was a quick trip and a fall for the ray gun to activate through his backpack. Luckily, the gun was aimed away from Project J. Unluckily, it hit the sports facility that Project J just happened to be walking by on his way to school. F _or a genius, he can sure act dumb sometimes._

All of their lives, the two villains were told that they were never good enough, never smart enough, and that they would always be the bad guys.No matter what they did or what they said, they discovered they could never change somebody's perspective of their character. Instead of rejecting their path to evil, they decided to band together and accept the role that others projected onto them.

Not that they didn't naturally enjoy chaos, but it's isn't easy being the villain 24/7. 

Shoving the past memories away, not allowing them to settle in, Dark Soul began approaching the unconscious Jackson Wang, setting a timer in the back of his mind of when he predicted that the building would collapse. An unsettled feeling curled in his abdomen when he noticed the blood soaking through the fencer's protective headgear, and he carefully removed the helmet in order to see the damage.

As Dark Soul cradled Jackson's head in his lap (you know... to make sure he didn't have brain damage...) he heard Project J touch down in front of him.

"Woooooooow. While I'm battling for my life against Red Dragon, you're tenderly nursing sleeping beauty out of a coma. Figures." Project J exclaims sarcastically, turning on his heel and beginning the process of levitating the unconscious bodies of civilians out of the building.

Dark Soul glowers back at Project J under his black tinted helmet, "I was checking over all of the civilians!".

"Dude, just admit you're whipped and lets go. I knocked out Red Dragon into the lake," Project J waves away Dark Soul's panicked look at the news, "and before you start, I retrieved his unconscious body and dumped him on a beach somewhere so when he wakes up, he'll think he just watched ashore. And no, no one saw me either."

Dark Soul huffs, gathering Jackson in his arms bridal style, "It's creepy how you always know what I want to say. Sometimes, I think you're a mind reader instead of a telekinetic."

As the two villains exit the building through the hole in the wall, unconscious floating civilians in tow, the building gives one final groan as the walls collapse inwards. Project J looks towards the building in dismay as he gently sets the people down onto the ground outside, "My taxes are gonna be through the roof if we keep knocking over buildings like this."

Dark soul hums in agreement as he feels the pull of Project J's telekinesis around his suit, lifting them both up into the air and away from the remains of the building below.

"We should be expecting Red Dragon to come after us since we have the damsel again. Commence operation; Downed Dragon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow! First chapter! I barely know a thing about fencing but I tried my darndest to make it believable. I wanted to focus more on the hero vs villain relationship in the beginning, but not to worry, a lot more of jackson in the next one! Hopefully I can fit some of the other members in as well. Not all at once, but you can bet your lightstick that you will see the others soon enough!
> 
> I have an idea of where I want this to go but... who knows? 
> 
> If you don't like that I started in the middle without giving more of an explanation into how our supers got their powers then CON-DRAG-ULATIONS! WE'RE SORTA ON THE SAME PAGE! I wanted to get right into it so I decided to start the story at a time where Jacks has become used to being taken by our villains once a week. This work may turn into a series where I post sidebar stories related to this work, but didn't cut it as a chapter. The villains origin story we will get later on in this particular work probably. Mark's... maybe not?
> 
> Holla at ya girl if u want a mark story
> 
> If I missed any details or you want a sidebar story based on this chapter, please leave comments! I like practicing writing so i'll be happy to fulfill requests.  
> As always, any spelling errors or incorrect phrases, let me know!
> 
> Shameless tumblr plug: its-jwang2017  
> I have the third chapter up on wattpad: jwang2017


	3. Wherein Jackson is a Damsel Trying His Best Not to be in Distress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I should probably not write so much so I can space out the chapters... whatever. Heed the additional tags and, as always, LMK of any spelling mistakes.  
> -Also, I finally realized that I never posted this chapter. I really thought I did! I posted it on tumblr and wattpad and forgot AO3... what an amateur move :P  
> You can thank the other Jackbum stories for reminding me... my fave one that I like to read posted an update which led me to think about whether I have or not LMAO  
> A huge thank you to all of you who commented and gave this work kudos! Lovely, lovely, lovely! Made my day :)  
> Anyways, let me know if I should add any other tags or warnings. I've tried to be very conscientious of what I am writing and how it could affect others, but I am not always great at spotting it!  
> TW: Panic attacks and moderately vague descriptions of violence

The first thing Jackson sensed upon waking up in a dark, circular area was the throbbing pain in his skull and matted blood sticking to the right side of his neck. A fluorescent light shone down the front of Jackson’s face, forcing him to squint his eyes in a vain effort to decrease his oncoming migraine. Tucking his chin into his chest forces his half closed eyes to focus on the frayed ropes wrapped around him, keeping him pinned to a cold, metal chair. With is hands tied to the arms of the chair and his legs wrapped together in front of him, Jackson was barely able to move any part of his body. The white of his fencing uniform was stained with a mixture of blood and dust, creating a Pollock-like design on the once pristine suit.  _ I am literally never getting that out... _

For a split second, Jackson forgot the connotation to this wonderful awakening in a mysterious location. As his brain slowly filled in the gaps to his memory, his body began to ache as it remembered the force at which it was flung into the solid ground of the gym. As the pain made itself known, Jackson winced as his ribs protested against the tight rope that wound around his chest. Realizing there was no comfortable position while being stuck to a metal chair, Jackson forced his head up and eyes open to try to survey his surroundings.

“Hello? Any bad guys in the area?” Jackson tentatively called out in what proved to be a regrettable move. The volume of his own voice seemed to be the last straw for his concussion, starting a percussive symphony of pulsing heat inside his head. The pounding in his brain combined with the bruises on his body forced a pained groan out of Jackson, shutting his eyes tightly as possible while he tried to ride out the waves of suffering.

Loud, thudding footsteps came from Jackson’s left, attacking his already frayed senses. The fencer whimpered in pain and tried to bring his shoulders up to cover his ears from the invasive sounds, not caring it made him look vulnerable to his captor. Soon enough, the footsteps came to a standstill in front of the fencer, a shadow blocking the light that permeated Jackson’s eyelids while gloved fingers gently lifted his chin up. 

“Can you open your eyes for me?” A gruff voice whispered. Jackson tried to shy away from the other’s touch, not willing to open his eyes for fear that the light would attack his retinas and further wreck his concussed brain. Even the low voice of the other grated his nerves, as if the other was shouting directly into his ears instead of whispering. However, the chair wouldn’t let him move far and the other’s fingers firmly held contact with Jackson’s face. Slowly, he opened his eyes to a familiar sight; his reflection in the visor of Dark Souls protective helmet.

Jackson used the chance to examine his mirror image as Dark Soul gently used his fingers to turn Jackson’s face in different positions, seeming to inspect the damage. The kidnappee noticed that he was pretty beaten up, with small cuts on his left cheek and a bruise stretching across the right side of his face.

“You must’ve really fucked something up, Dark Soul. Usually I come to this Villains Club relatively unscathed. Now my face is all messed up and my body feels like crap. Do I get compensated for property damage? I may need reconstructive surgery to restore my face to its former glory after this encounter.” Jackson rambles out quietly, but his whispered retorts fall on deaf ears as Dark Soul ignores him in favor of continuing his assessment.

After a couple minutes of awkward silence, Jackson let himself relax a bit as Dark Soul released his face from his firm grip. Taking a single step back, Dark Soul tapped his forefinger twice against his armored thigh and began slowly rising into the air. Jackson watched, enraptured as Dark Soul began gliding backwards, his sluggish brain forgetting that a light was aimed directly at him.

The pain comes back full force once Jackson’s eyes accidentally meet the rays of light, the absence of Dark Soul’s body allowing the bulb to direct its attention back on the captive once more. He shies away from the bulb, spots dancing in front of his quickly shut eyes, and he grits his teeth in an effort to keep the agonized sounds forming in his throat at bay.

Suddenly, the shadow returns, this time without the pounding footsteps to indicate movement. “Open your mouth.” Dark Soul commands lowly, grabbing Jackson’s chin once more. Jackson clamps his mouth shut, much to Dark Souls annoyance, and slowly shakes his head no. An annoyed sigh escapes the criminal in front of him and, before he can do anything to try and stop it, his nose is covered with gloved hands. Unable to breath or move, Jackson struggles briefly before gasping in pain as his ribs shift awkwardly. 

With ease, two pills are inserted into Jackson’s mouth. Before the Hong Kong native can even try to spit them out, Dark Soul forces his mouth to close. With his nose still covered, Jackson continues to struggle and uncomfortably swallows the pills down dry, almost choking as the unknown drugs catch in his throat. Immediately, Dark Soul lets go of him and backs away.

Jackson glares as his usual kidnapper stands in front of him, “What the hell did you give me?!” 

For a few seconds, the latter doesn’t respond. Then, he starts clapping.

Jackson stares back at the other in shock, thinking  _ It’s finally happening. This person has gone insane. _ Dark Soul seems to look at the tied fencer inquisitively, tilting his head to one side.

“I can’t remember, are you actually this slow or are the pills not doing anything for your concussion?” the villain drawls out, resuming speaking at normal volume.

Jackson scoffs, opening his eyes fully and staring the other down. “What the hell are you rambling… about…?” Jackson recoiled a bit in shock, realizing that the pain he was feeling earlier had decreased significantly. The migraine ebbed to a dull irritant and his body was no longer voicing concern over his encounter with the floor. _ How did it work so fast?? _

“For the record, I wanted you to suffer just a tiny bit more…” Jackson snapped his head to the right where he could clearly see Project J, back facing him as the villain typed away at some monitors that Jackson swore were not there before. 

“Those pills should make his life a bit easier. Dark Soul, we’re almost ready for broadcast, will you stop staring at Wang and come over here?” Project J called over his shoulder again, keeping his focus on the computer screens before him.

Rubbing the back of his neck in what looked like an embarrassing gesture, Dark Soul snapped his gaze away from the captive and quickly walked over to his partner, mumbling under his breath “Why do I put up with this sass, all the time, nonstop?”

With the duo distracted by whatever was thrown up on the screen before them, Jackson took this opportunity to continue to survey the room. He now noticed that he was in the center of what appeared to be a makeshift lab, with gadgets haphazardly strewn about over various tables, papers gathered around with notes and equations, pictures of what appeared to be random places pinned to the walls and a huge, covered opening on a dome shaped ceiling.  _ Are we in some kind of observatory? _

Before Jackson could answer his own question, a whine of static popped up on the monitors that the duo was gathered around. Curiously, Jackson tried to look over their shoulders to see what the ruckus was about, but the broad back of Dark Soul covered most of the monitors. The static stopped abruptly and what sounded like the news took its place.

After a couple more keyboard clicks, Project J pushed his seat back a bit and turned away from the controls. “I have control of the news station and the projector-bots are finally in position. You should be able to power them up once it’s showtime. Are we ready to broadcast?” 

Dark Soul contemplated his partner’s words for a brief moment, before nodding his head. “I think we have all we need. Red Dragon should be up and desperately searching for Wang over here and I can power the bots right away. Make sure you have the Ray warmed up and ready to fire.” 

Project J nodded his assent and soon, the two began gearing up for their showdown with Chicago’s native superhero. Jackson watched the scene unfold, helpless and unable to assist with Mark’s soon to happen take-down of the villains. He looked up towards the ceiling, hoping beyond hope that Mark would be ok dealing with whatever scheme his enemies had for the week and desperately trying to think of a plan. That’s when he noticed the large telescope hovering a couple feet above his head. Blinking rapidly to make sure he was seeing things correctly, Jackson felt an embarrassing heat rising up his face.

_ If anyone asks, I’ll say I noticed we were in the observatory immediately instead of accidentally discovering the seven foot long telescope that happened to be above my head... _

And with that, Jackson pieced together an idea.

* * *

Mark’s eyes sprung open, sitting up suddenly and violently coughing up water out of his lungs. The sudden move stirred up the bruises on his body, the soreness forcing Mark into a fetal position on the sandy beach, his legs still getting splashed by the waves from the lake. The coughing fit slowly lessened with the possibility of choking on lake water becoming less imminent. Mark began moving different parts of his body to see how critical his injuries were. Once he determined that he had only minor cuts, bruises, and cracked ribs from Project J’s assault, Mark allowed himself a brief moment of reprieve as his coughing stopped. Relaxing his muscles and letting out an aggravated sigh at the fact that he let the villain get the better of him, the hero noticed the feeling of his body working to repair the damages.  _ At least my cells repaired most of my injuries. It would have been hell to wake up with a broken back again.... _

After lying back for a few moments to try and regain his bearings, Mark began the slow process of convincing himself to stand back up. His lungs and throat were sore from the near drowning experience and he wondered how he was able to wash back up onto the beach as he maneuvered himself into a squatting position. Blinking his eyes rapidly to get the sand out of his face, Mark tried standing up while his legs almost gave way to the sudden weight they had to support. Once he was confident in his ability to walk and move, Mark started dusting himself off, dimly noticing a small crowd of students starting to gather to his left, all staring and pointing at our disheveled superhero. Hearing the click of cameras as the posse began taking pictures, Mark ruffled out the sand in his hair and slowly rose into the sky. Once he was satisfied that he got most of the sand off, Mark turned to face towards the gym and began flying in that direction. Not knowing how long he had been out, Mark hoped that this would be the one time that the villains let Jackson be.

Red Dragon’s dreams were crushed as he hears the police sirens coming from the direction of the sports facility. As he jets around the corner, the first thing he spots is the yellow caution tape blocking the general public from the collapsed wreckage of the Loyola facility. EMT’s, firefighters, and policemen all rushed around as they inspected the injured civilians afflicted by the collapse while trying to prevent the gawking public from entering the wreckage. Horrified, Mark gently lands on the roof of the CPD’s chief’s car in an effort to avoid getting in the way of the official’s work. His red suit quickly catches the police chief’s attention, who snaps her head around to face the hero.

“What’s the situation, chief?”

Waving her hand in a semblance of a greeting, policewoman Donna Winters stiffly replies, “Well, your battle knocked out the college’s facility, injuring around 50 people in the process. We have one missing person unaccounted for, you probably already know who, and we barely have enough people here to handle the whole situation. Additionally, we have a couple othered injured by the beach from your second battle with Project J, which stretches us even thinner. Luckily, somebody was able to pull a lot of the unconscious out of the building, so at least we do not have any casualties this time around.”

Mark’s stomach drops as his brain processes new information. Guilt settles in as Mark tries to figure out the best way to assist the public without injuring any more civilians, his eyes unable to meet the accusatory glare of the police chief below him. His thoughts were soon cut short as static bursts from the car’s radio, surprising both the chief and the hero. 

“Chief! We got …situation… there’s damage…evacuation needed!” A panicked voice yelled, their voice getting cut off intermittently. Yanking her car door open, jostling Red Dragon with the force of it, the police chief quickly dropped into her seat and grabbed the comm. 

“Repeat! Where are you, what’s the damage?” The chief listened, but her question was met with radio silence. “I need you to report back immediately, what is your current location officer?” 

As the radio continued it’s silent reply, the police chief frustratedly threw her comm down onto the seat next to her, hitting her steering wheel with the other hand. Gritting her teeth and screwing her eyes shut, the chief tried to calm herself down by focusing on the ache in her hand. She felt the car shift above her, opening her eyes to see the hero’s red hair appear in the entryway of the still open car door. He held onto the roof of the car and looked at her upside down inquisitively. The childish gesture sparked sympathy within the chief, who thought to herself,  _ He’s probably just a kid, and he’s got to save the city again? _

Pushing aside her anger over the helplessness of the situation, Chief Winters took a deep breath and let it out, regaining her thoughts and organizing them accordingly. In her most authoritative voice, she finally turned to address Red Dragon. “Since I don’t know the location of the other team, I would like to ask you to fly out and scan the city. If there’s trouble, I’m confident in your ability to prevent as much building damage and pedestrian casualties as possible. We have this area covered.”

Red Dragon flips over onto the ground beside her open door, sending a thumbs up her way, declaring, “I’ll take care of it, Chief Winters. I’ll stop them before any more civilians get hurt. ” 

Once he sees Winters’ nod of assent, Mark turns around and blasts off in search of the two villains. Chief Winters watches as the city’s only hero gracefully arcs through the sky and over the highrises. As she exits her vehicle, Chief Winters begins barking out orders at her team with the image of Red Dragon’s quirky thumb’s up still lingering in her thoughts. An uneasy feeling settled in her heart as she begins organizing the team around her.  _ Whoever you are, Red Dragon, I hope to god I didn’t just send you into a war zone…  _

* * *

“The fake call was sent to the chief’s radio. Our super should be in position soon.” Project J idly commented, turning off the power to his self-made transmitter. 

With a silent nod of acknowledgement, Dark Soul begins gathering his power together, washing the room in a bright white light through the seams of his suit as electricity crackles around him. Jackson, still unable to move in his chair, feels the static rising inside the room as hair stands up underneath his uniform in response. Unable to stop the upcoming event, Jackson can only watch as Dark Soul took up a stance in front of the covered slit in the dome in front of him. After a quick press of a button from one of Project J’s monitors, the covering starts sliding away with a groan, gradually revealing the outside world. From around the silhouette of Dark Soul, Jackson can see the huge lake shimmering in the light outside the observatory. With no buildings on the horizon, Jackson deduced that they were facing the eastward side of the Adler planetarium. With his position confirmed, Jackson watches as the TV monitors turn on one by one while Dark Soul raises his hand towards the heavens, the screens simultaneously starting to fill with images of various places around Chicago. With a jolt, Jackson realizes they’re broadcasting a live feed of the city, with one monitor capturing his tied form from a birds eye view. Glancing upwards, he can barely make out a shape behind the bright bulb still shining in his face.  _ Must be one of the bots Project J mentioned before.  _

“Hey, I am all about video recordings, but I’m pretty sure you need my consent before you start projecting this lovely bondage scenario to everyone in the city.” 

For a split second, the tv monitors glitch out. Surprised, Jackson turns his attention towards the supervillain in front of him, noticing the barely perceptible twitch his comment seems to insight. Quickly recovering Dark Soul coughs out an embarrassed huff before regaining control of the video bots. 

Curiously, Jackson opens his mouth to inquire about the sudden glitch. His words die in his throat, however, as he catches a glimpse of a familiar red suit flying past one of the bots. 

Project J clears his throat, turning towards Dark Soul, “We have eyes on Red Dragon. Bot C31 caught him going south down the magnificent mile…” 

Apparently hearing his partner’s update, Dark Soul begins flexing his hand in certain patterns, looking like he’s playing one handed piano. On the monitors, the bots began banding together, synchronized by the commands from the technopath to search for the flying hero. In the monitor, Jackson can see that the robots are silver in design, with their pointed nose and long, angled wings making them look like a flock of silver chimney swifts. 

Soon enough, all of the robots except the one inside the observatory with the trio, were following Red Dragon’s tail at a swift pace. 

“Lead him towards millenium park so we can throw up the feed of Jackson.” commanded Project J, who moved towards the monitors in order to study the feed better.

With a flick of his wrist, Dark Soul sent the robots flying forwards, making their presence known to the airborn super. Jackson watched in stunned fascination as his best friend finally realized the swarm of silver stalking him in the sky, the robots shoving into Mark in pairs. Veering away from the incoming attack, Mark tries to escape the robots attack, unknowingly flying right towards the pavilion that the villains are targeting. The robots are so close to Mark that Jackson can clearly hear the muffled curses and labored breathing stemming from his friend and he feels the anger rising in his chest at his own inability to warn Mark.

Soon enough, Mark can be seen flying over the Bean in Millennium Park, the robots circling around him, rising up to create a barrier to push him back against the concert Pavilion. In the observatory, Dark Soul raises his other hand and Jackson sees the giant screen behind Mark light up with the live recording of himself thrown up onto the screen. 

Jackson knows that he looks terrible, but he didn’t realize how bad it was until he watches as Mark’s face falls as the hero takes in the fencer’s trapped form. The guilt is evident in the down turned corners of Red Dragon’s lips before his face smooths out and he gets into a battle stance. 

“Let go of him.” Red Dragon commands lowly, raising his fists threateningly as fire begins to wrap around his fingers.

Jackson hears a scoff to his left as Project J saunters over towards the center of the room, effectively putting himself in full view behind Jackson. He puts his hands on the back of the metal chair, leaning against it with his body towering over Jackson. “You know we can’t do that, Red Dragon. The princess, here, is our safeguard against one of your merciless attacks. You don’t want us to “accidentally” rough him up more than we already have, do you?”

The fire spreads up Red Dragon’s arm in response to the villains threat, “Touch a hair on his head and you’ll be in for the beating of a lifetime!” The hero snarls menacingly, his burning anger turning his fire blue for a split second. 

The villain scoffs at the hero’s display, rolling his eyes before replying, “No need to get your spandex in a bunch, hot stuff. All we ask is that you turn over this city to us and disappear of the face of the earth. Is that too much to ask?”

“And leave Chicago at the mercy of you two goons? I think not.”

Project J sighed, resting his chin on top of Jackson’s head. When Jackson tried to squirm away from the other’s touch, Project J brought both of his hands up against the sides of the athlete’s face, forcing Jackson to look directly into the monitors and act as Project J’s headrest.

“Then I guess you’ll never see this pretty face again, won’t you?” Project J stroked the sides of Jackson’s cheeks with his forefinger, the fencer’s skin crawling at the touch.

“Hey, man, consent is sexy and mandatory!” Jackson shouted through clenched teeth, still trying to squirm his head away from the villains touch. His eyes darted to the side to watch Mark’s reaction play out on the screen, getting worried at the blue color of his flames.

“Jackson, don’t panic! I’ll find you!” The hero shouts, attempting to rise up in search of wherever the villains were keeping his friend. The silver robots closed their ranks above the hero, preventing Mark from getting very far off the ground.

Deciding now was as good of a time as any, Jackson hurriedly yelled out, “ADLERPLANETARIUM!” before Project J quickly clamped one of his hands over the fencer’s mouth.

“What? No! Don’t listen to Jacks, he’s concussed, he has no idea what he’s blabbing on about!” 

But that was all Mark needed to hear. Jackson watched with wide eyes as his friend’s body was encompassed with a blue fire and he sped upwards. The robots were no match for the heat generated by the Hero, and Red Dragon blasted through the barrier with ease. The feed turned to static as the robots were annihilated and Jackson smirked under Project J’s gloved hand, feeling a little victorious as he watched Dark Soul lower his arms.

Project J quickly let go of Jackson, as if burnt, and took a huge stride away from the captive as Dark Soul turned around. Raising his hands in a submissive gesture, Project J walked towards his partner and joined him at the edge of the opening with an apology on his lips. “You told me to make him mad, so I did what I had to!” 

Dark Soul clenched his hands into fists, turning his back on Project J. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. The powerful glow that surrounded the villain slowly disappeared along with the static in the room, indicating his powers were leveling off. A loud beep caught everyone’s attention, and the villains turn in unison towards the sound as one of the buttons on their console blinks red. Jackson has been kidnapped enough times to know that that particular display meant, a relieved laugh escaping from Jackson’s mouth and slowly becoming more hysterical until tears are coming out of his eyes. 

“Oh man, you guys are about to get your asses handed to you! Red Dragon is coming, powered up and completely enraged!” Jackson manages to get out, laughing all the while at the absurdity of the villains plans.  _ How could they think that I wouldn’t figure out where we were? _

His laughter dies out as the two villains look at each other, fully turning to face Jackson and standing with their arms crossed. Under their heavy stares, Jackson begins to feel uneasy at their silence and lack of fear for their lives. 

“Power off, please.” Project J finally voices, his command causing the entire room to go dark with the only light stemming from the sun’s rays outside. Jackson, officially confused, assumes that the power goes off in preparation for Red Dragon’s entrance through the ceiling. Bracing himself in his seat, Jackson tries his best to fold in on himself to protect his body from Mark’s usual hole-in-the-wall arrival… 

But looks up as the sound of Red Dragon’s entrance appears to his … left? 

Jerking his head to his side, Jackson watches in horror as a single monitor records his friend encapsulated in a similar circular dome that was not the one he was in. His jaw drops as screen-Mark looks around before reaching the same realization as Jackson. 

Laughing at his stunned expression, Dark Souls hands start lighting up as he calls out to Jackson,“What, you really thought you were at the Planetarium?”

* * *

Dark Soul was more than pleased; he was positively elated that his plan went off without a hitch. It all relied on Jackson falling for their ruse, hook, line and sinker. With the fencer taking the bait, he unwittingly sent the hero into the premade trap located on the Museum Campus while their lair was set safely on the southern side of Chicago. 

Ignoring their captives shouts of anger, Dark Soul began on concentrating on the electric hum of their satellite cast out into space. Feeling it powering on, Dark Soul sent a thumb’s up in his partner’s direction.

With a smug smirk on his face, Project J activated the two way communications between the lair and the trap. Watching Red Dragon’s face, Project J activated the robot already set in the real Adler Planetarium. Once he confirmed that the system was working, he sauntered back over into the picture. “Hello, old friend! If you haven’t noticed, you’ve fallen right into our trap. Lovely, isn’t it?”

Screen-Mark glared back through the projection, “Really? You went through all this work to send me to the planetarium and created a fake one in a separate location? What were the tickets were too expensive for you?”

“Excuse you, if we could afford this quality replica in order to trick Wang over here, then we could DEFINITELY afford to buy the entirety of the Adler Planetarium. This place is worth a hundred times more than your dollar store dye job on that ragged looking mop of yours! ”

“Wow, I know you’re not talking about MY HAIR. Do you even have hair under that tacky helmet, or do you wear it because you’re ashamed of your bald spot? Oh, wait, wearing that helmet all the time probably GAVE you a bald spot!”

“I do NOT have ANY sort of hair loss ANYWHERE, for your information! Your head would explode with jealousy if you saw my perfectly coiffed locks!”

“Who the hell refers to their hair as ‘coiffed locks’?! GET WITH THE TIMES, OLD MAN!”

Just as Project J opened his mouth, ready with another witty clapback, Jackson coughed loudly, catching everyone’s attention.

“LADIES! You’re both pretty! But if you don’t mind getting on with it, I have a project due tomorrow that I really can’t get out of. Can we just skip to the part where Red Dragon escapes and kicks your ass?”

Clamping his mouth shut, Project J rolls out his shoulders and holds his hands behind his back, trying to regain his composure. “Of course. That is, if he is even capable of escaping our trap while being obliterated under the full concentrated power of the sun…!”

Project J’s words seemed to be the command his partner was waiting for. With a quick movement, Dark Soul clenches his hand into a fist, activating the satellite perfectly positioned in the exosphere. The satellite begins emitting a highly concentrated beam of light which streaks across the sky above them, and the villains watch as the robot located within the trap abruptly cuts communication. Not soon after, the sound of an explosion shakes both the lair and the city behind them. 

The aftershocks of the blast only last for a few seconds, but for Dark Soul, it feels like an eternity. He cuts off the power to the ray quickly, and rushes over to the monitor along with Project J. Activating the remaining robots that were not melted by Red Dragon, Dark Soul deploys them to the blast zone. The two watch the feed closely as the silver drones encircle the site. Slowly, the dust starts to settle and both villains can see that the Planetarium’s archipelago has been obliterated, swallowed up by the water underneath.

With wide eyes, Dark Soul uses the robots to scan for a sign of life, any sign of life, amidst the ruins. The white letters against the red backdrop on the monitors flash back at the villains, a clear sign that all readings came back negative.

The two partners, who for years had never even gotten close to defeating the acclaimed superhero, slowly turn to each other in shock. 

“We did it…” 

* * *

The aftermath of Red Dragon’s defeat goes by in a blur for Jackson. He can’t move, can’t even speak, as he is untied from the chair. Once freed, he puts his head in his hands, his brain still trying to comprehend what happened. For a couple minutes, he just sits there in a state of total shock. After a while, one of the villains gently removes his hands away from his face while the other places a black, polyester bag over his head. He faintly registers the villains helping him stand, throwing his arms around their necks and supporting his weight on either side. They half carry, half walk him out of the lair, Jackson’s legs failing him in the moment. Somehow the duo places Jackson inside a car and the next thing he knows, he’s being led to a park bench near Soldier field. He watches, looking without really seeing, as the car speeds away and he’s left completely alone. 

Usually, the area that he’s in is bustling with tourists and city goers, each eager to watch a football game or wander through the many museums nearby. But today, the place is desolate and scattered with random debris all around. Not knowing how long he sat on the bench, Jackson stares out towards the harbor before him his eyes looking but not comprehending the scene before him. Before Jackson can make a conscious decision to begin walking, his feet have already taken him halfway down the street towards the Planetarium. 

In a few short minutes, the fencer is standing at the edge of the explosion site, watching as the waves crash against what’s left of the entryway. Jackson sees pieces of the building sticking out of the lake, but most of the property is submerged, the water reclaiming the land it once had. 

Jackson feels droplets running down his face, thinking that the weather started to reflect the somber feeling of the moment. The sun was still shining brightly, however, with no rain in sight as Jackson touched shaking fingers to his face. He was crying.

Jackson fell to his knees, an anguished scream bursting from his chest as the denial over the situation was brutally broken down; his best friend was dead. With grief in his heart and an emptiness in his soul, Jackson wrapped his arms around himself to try and hold his body together. The familiar feeling of anxiety and panic took root in his core, his body starting to shake in response. It felt as though he was too big for his skin and his mind lost in the all consuming negative thoughts that continuously berated him. His heart rate sped up and his breathing became ragged as his eyes widened and the tears dried on his face. Curling in on himself, Jackson’s panic attack increased tenfold as he tried to gasp in air that his lungs refused to take, his internal dialogue progressively getting louder and attacking his brain:  _ I killed him. I killed him. I killed him. I KILLED him. I KILLEDHIM. I KILLED HIM. IKILLEDHIM. IKILLEDHIM. IKILLEDHIMIKILLEDHIMI KILLEDHIMIKILLEDHIMIKILLEDHIM…  _

A faraway voice pierced through Jackson’s self deprecating thoughts. Jackson curled in further on himself, vaguely aware that his hands were covering his ears and his eyes were tightly shut. The accusing voice inside his head began to slowly dim as his breathing started to resume at it’s normal pace. The overwhelming feeling of self-hate began to ebb as Jackson registered a hand gently stroking down his back in rhythm with his breathing. Slowly uncovering his ears, Jackson was finally able to hear the voice of his helper alongside him.

“ - doing great, Jacks, that’s it breath with me. Everything will be ok, just focus on your breathing and let me ground you in the present. You’re fine, everything is going to be great. Just relax and let yourself take in air…” The voice continued, Jackson’s body finally beginning to resume its functionality. 

Slowly, Jackson opened his eyes and started down at the concrete street in front of him. His knees were covered with soot and he noticed a pair of black vans on his left. The hand never stopped stroking his back and Jackson felt embarrassment well up inside him. He had had panic attacks before, but never in front of a complete stranger.

The hand grounding him stopped it’s motions and instead chose to rest on Jackson’s shoulder. “Do you feel ok to stand up?”

The other’s low voice sounded strangely familiar, but as Jackson sat up, he kept his eyes downcast and pointed away. Sniffling, Jackson wiped at his face in an effort to get rid of the dried tears under his eyes. “M-maybe in a bit… Sorry you had to wit-witness that…” Jackson mumbled, feeling ashamed as his voice wavered and his words stuttered. 

The hand that was on his shoulder gently shook him, the other laughing a bit. “I’ve seen you when you were half naked in my apartment with nothing but a black tie, cufflinks, and black boxer briefs in a half-assed attempt to seduce me, Jacks. I learned how to help calm you down after I witnessed your first panic attack right in front of me as I sat like an idiot as you ran out of the room to try and solve it yourself. I gear up everyday to save your sorry ass from the two knumbskulls that always try to get rid of me. There is nothing in this world that could sink this friend-ship, you loser.”

Jackson’s neck almost snapped as he finally turned towards his left. The bright, laughing brown eyes that Jackson thought he would never see again stared back at him, and Jackson launched himself into the waiting arms of his supporter.

“MARK?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -LOLOL. Really long chapter, my bad. Maybe I should've broken it up a bit but I have a "don't give a heck" attitude about chapter length, which I probably should fix.  
> -I may or may not have written myself into a corner. I've started writing the next chapter, but I feel like every avenue I could take this in feels wrong somehow?  
> -That being said, I'm stuck between three different solutions for the next chapter:  
> 1\. Markson reunion, talking about why Mark did what he did, Jackson's reaction, etc, and go into their school routine immediately after to see how the students and the city are reacting to the news. Wouldn't see the villains reactions as much now, but I will do a lil flashback later on.  
> 2\. "Where Were You When Our Hero Fell?" - sort of a one-shot where we see how different people react to the news in sort of an interview style recording. It would give me a chance to experiment with a different type of writing, where I am breaking the fourth wall and interviewing the characters of my choosing. Could act as a sort of interlude chapter, may not be as long. Would be interesting to experiment with, may do it anyways and add it as a sidebar story...  
> 3\. Bounce forwards to a week later and see how the city is doing with our hero gone and how the boys go about their day semi-normally. This would allow me to reveal Mark's reasoning later on, but we wouldn't see Jacks and Marks reunion unless I added a oneshot.
> 
> All of these options sound great to me! As you can tell, I started this story with a basic framework and I'm along for the ride just as much as you all are! I'll decide within the coming week, so watch out for an update :)
> 
> Each of the options leaves room for me writing extra chapters and leaving them as one-shots within this series. Don't fret, I will let you into this universe as much as I can!
> 
> Finally, a shameless plug for my Tumblr (@ its-jwang2017) 
> 
> Next up: who knows ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> If you know who our villains are, con-drag-ulations you're my fave.  
> Any Idol you want to see in the future?


	4. Interlude 1: Jinyoung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Always remember to head the tags

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED AND REVISED!  
> Past in italics. When speaking, korean is in italics as well while English isn't. You'll see. I don't personally speak or know much korean besides some basics, so let me know if there's anything weird!

_From a young age, Park Jinyoung had been different from the other kids. While most youngsters wanted to spend time to either explore the great outdoors, chase each other around on the playground and/or participate in regularly scheduled playdates, Jinyoung preferred to stay inside to either read the latest issue of Super Street magazine, watch Top Gear, or design racing tracks for his toy cars . Anything car related, Jinyoung wanted to be a part of. For as long as he could remember, he wanted to become an automotive engineer and design cars for companies like Ferrari, Bugatti or Aston Martin, cars that would one day be seen in international filmas and become associated with words like power, elegance, and envy. He wanted to be the one to make cars that would bring people joy, cars that would eventually become a part of a family for 10+ years, that would be handed down from generation to generation and provide people with a safe vessel to travel to and from exotic destinations around the world. He would spend hours daydreaming about the perfect design, fitting parts together like puzzle pieces inside his mind. Even though Jinyoung was only five, he could already take apart, rebuild and redesign any car you put in front of him without even laying a finger on it._

_You see, Park Jinyoung had a gift. When he looked at a technological item, his brain was able to… “take it apart”. While you and I could look at a car and see only the color, car logo, the number of doors on it, maybe even the interior, Jinyoung could see way beyond that. His power could show him how to take the car apart, where to make improvements, how to reorganize to add extra materials, even categorize every single piece inside the car (right on down to the screws on the motor plate) and find which specific part had problems. His “gift” didn’t just work on cars; it also extended to things like cell phones, televisions, electronic billboards, tablets, computers, basically anything with a circuit board . To him, their designs appeared in the air next to them with an orange glow and he could manipulate the schematics however he chose. To see the world with a chaotic swirl of orange designs, however, was exhausting for the first ten years of his life._

_It helped him in certain scenarios, like when he was able to impress his first crush by fixing her broken Tamagotchi during recess when he was six. Even though he got severely chastised by his teachers for stealing the janitors toolkit, and an even harsher punishment from his parents for getting in trouble at school, he could still remember her grateful smile and the feeling of accomplishment that welled up in his stomach. That night, he sat up for hours and drew designs for other games and toys for kids that were unbreakable, waterproof and had screens that provided better image quality that would revolutionize the technological world._

_His dreams were soon shattered, however, as the word of his unique skill got around to the other students. All of them wanted to know how he was able to fix her toy, and when he explained that there were orange designs floating around the air of every technological item that only he could see and manipulate, well…_

_Needless to say, that story got him his first, of many, letters home to his parents calling for them to sign him up for a psychiatric appointment or an intervention of some sort. Jinyoung intercepted most of these letters and threw them away immediately, each time discarding that part of himself that was proud of his gift._

_From when he was six on wards, he was completely ostracized from his classmates, none of whom wanted to be friends with the kid who could see “orange electronic ghosts”. No matter what Jinyoung tried to do to impress his peers, to get even a fraction of the feeling of accomplishment he once experienced, nothing seemed to work. His inventions and/or his repairs to various items seemed to either explode in his face (literally) or were completely unwilling to power on. While his gift was able to show him the improvements to various items, Jinyoung eventually learned that not all improvements are good improvements._

_By the time he was ten, Jinyoung was shunned by most of his peers. Even his teachers kept their distance from him in order to be out of the blast radius for whatever invention he had in his backpack at any day. The only bright side (that Jinyoung likes to joke about with Jaebum) is that since he didn’t have any friends, it left a lot of time for studying. Jinyoung was a straight A student, which was probably the only reason why the school never bothered to suspend or expel him even though their letters said otherwise._

_This also brought him up to good standing with his parents for most of his life. Here, “good standing” can also be seen as “straight up ignored”, seeing as his parents were never really around to do anything other than punish him for whatever behavior they recently heard about from the neighbors, or say a swift “goodbye” when they left for yet another business venture. His parents were both high ranking partners in a marketing firm and traveled constantly to exotic locations, scouting for the perfect shot for whatever commercial/advertisement they were currently working on. At least, that’s what he heard from the gossiping help that worked at the house. He never really got around to asking what his parents did for a living. He only knew that he was able to live in a very nice, large penthouse apartment in Seoul and have access to a black credit card that seemed to have an unlimited amount of money because of the two people._

_He never really knew his parents, which would have been sad for anyone else but was just considered as another fact of life for Jinyoung. The sky is blue, the sun sets in the west, plants make oxygen, and Jinyoung’s parents were basically nonexistent. So, add that fact to the other facts of life about Jinyoung (bullied, ostracized, lonely), and you have a mostly unhappy beginning of life story._

_Until Jinyoung turned ten and found a world that welcomed him home for the first time in his short life._

* * *

_On his tenth birthday, Jinyoung was aimlessly walking around the streets of Seoul, South Korea. He enjoyed the familiarity of his neighborhood and was very used to walking down the same stretch of city block each day after school. The crisp autumn air made him feel hopeful and energized after a long, tiring day of teasing and other forms of harassment by his peers. When he was walking down the city streets, he could pretend he was just another stranger who had the potential of fitting in with the other random individuals around him. Even with the constant orange schematics floating around from various signs and electronics housed within stores and homes, Jinyoung did his best to tune his powers out and enjoy the chaoticness of the city that oddly brought him some sense of peace._

_At that moment, Jinyoung was practicing tuning out certain designs in favor of others and vice versa. The constant influx of data from all directions gave him headaches, but he was slowly learning to tune into specific “frequencies” at will. With his hands stuffed down the pockets of his black jeans, oversized hoodie practically engulfing him in a skyblue color, and a black ball cap fixed low over his eyes, it made perfect sense for him to trip over an object that blocked a big section of the sidewalk he was walking on._

_At that point, Jinyoung fell roughly to the ground, hands flying out automatically in an attempt to cushion his fall on the solid concrete sidewalk below. As he lay face down on the sidewalk, hands and knees burning at the impact, he felt moderately grateful that the other people walking by barely paid him any attention which gave him a little bit of comfort that his embarrassing moment was overlooked by many._

_“_ Hey, kid. Can’t you see I’m working here _?!” A gruff voice spoke up in English from behind Jinyoung._

_Jinyoung quickly turned around onto his back and scooted as far away from the voice as possible, quickly noticing that what he thought was a bump in the road was actually a man. A very tall, very burly, very angry looking, American man. The other was dressed in nothing but a black tank top and ripped jeans, his hair shaved in a buzzcut style and hands covered in what appeared to be a mixture of grease and dirt. The green eyes of the other looked threateningly into Jinyoung’s own, who was still frozen on the sidewalk around four feet away from the muscled foreigner._

_At that point in his life, Jinyoung had taken about three English classes, and while his grades showed that he was beyond proficient in the language, the fear at the possibility of getting into a fight clouded Jinyoung’s mind. At the time, he wanted to say something like “_ I have never meant to hurt you, I am so sorry _!” or even “_ I apologize, I didn’t see you! _”._

 _Instead, he yelled out, “_ I have never had eyes _!”_

_Instantly, mortification covered his entire being and his face became a very dark red color. Unable to look into the others eyes, Jinyoung braced himself for the inevitable beating he suspected he was about to receive for his rudeness._

_Instead of a punch, laughter filled the air, dissolving the tension between the two strangers. “ Sorry if I scared you. My Korean… not good. Are you well? ”_

_Jinyoung, faintly surprised to hear such rich laughter coming from the imposing figure before him, finally looked up to see a hand stretched out towards him. The green eyes that were filled with venom before now looked kindly down on Jinyoung, who accepted the hand hesitantly. The American pulled him up, patting his shoulders to remove the dirt that accumulated with its brief contact with the ground. Still blushing, Jinyoung kept his focus anywhere but on the person standing before him, when he finally noticed the object of the American’s attention._

_A beautiful, 1966 Shelby GT350 Ford Mustang sat on the curb of the city, white racing stripe a stark contrast to the sleek, black paint that adorned the machine. Jinyoung quickly located all of the modifications the American made, and was impressed to see that the vintage car had a 289 cubic inch, wet sump, race engine with a Holly 650 carburetor. This car could easily get around 425 horsepower, Jinyoung thought to himself._

_Noticing that the Korean’s attention was not on himself, the American turned to face the car before him. “ You enjoy car? ”_

_Jinyoung nodded minutely, still focused on the blueprints laid out before him._

_Chuckling to himself, the American continued in heavily accented Korean, “ This is… old car. Many… meters with me. Very important, very fast. Love it!_ Oh man, my korean is terrible. I hope you can understand.... Ah, maybe not… _Anyway, she is amazing and_ I’m visiting friends in Korea and I had to _take her with me. Couldn’t… leave her_ in the United States _. Ummmm, her name is_ Ford Mustang _….”_

_While the other man was talking, Jinyoung found the source of the problem. Located within the car, there were a couple of exposed wires near the engine, leading him to believe that the car only had a couple more starts before it completely went up in smoke.Without even asking the American, Jinyoung brushed away the others hands and went to go lift up the hood._

_Before he could even touch the car, he was blocked by an (unfairly) muscled arm. “_ Woah there, man. What are you doing? ”

 _Jinyoung ducked under the arm and proceeded to open up the bonnet, quickly searching the interior of the car and locating the problem. “_ Do you have any duct tape?” _Jinyoung asked in perfect English. A bit surprised and extremely curious, the other quickly opened the passenger door and ruffled around the interior of the car. Slamming the door, the other came quickly around the side of the car, duct tape in hand._

_Grabbing the item from the other’s hand, Jinyoung carefully teared apart two thin strips of the material. Setting aside the duct tape, he leaned in and got to work. Jinyoung wasn’t the tallest yet, nor were his arms very long. The wires that he wanted were located underneath the engine, and he had to stick his arm inside a very thin opening in order to reach it. He already knew how far away the problem was from the engine, and internally he knew that his arm was to short to grab at it. Yet, he still reached and he still hoped._

_Luck seemed to be on his side that day. It was as if an invisible hand pushed the wires a couple centimetres into his outstretched hand, almost like a miracle. Wasting no time, Jinyoung quickly grasped both wires, with his forefinger stuck between them to prevent them from touching one another. Tugging the wires to a more visible, easily accessible location, Jinyoung carefully wrapped the duct tape around the problematic parts. Sighing in relief, Jinyoung gently set the pieces back into the car and withdrew his upper body from the vehicle interior._

_“ There were two wires in there that were exposed, probably because they were either faulty or because somebody sold you damaged sleeves when you made your modifications to your car. I was able to move them alarmingly easily, so it could also be because they were not properly secured inside the car. It also looks like there are more that are about to tear. If the car had started a couple more times, there could have been a very severe accident that could have been deadly.” Jinyoung said calmly, closing the hood and brushing off his hands. “The_ duct tape _should hold for a bit, but you should probably fix that as soon as you can so you don’t damage even more of your car .”_

 _After a moment of silence, Jinyoung looked up to see the American standing a bit to the side, jaw wide open with a shocked look on his face. “_ I understood maybe half of that, but wow! How- how did you even see that ? I’ve been looking at the inside of her for around 40 minutes to see if I could find a problem, but you found it within two seconds , without even glancing at her interior! Those wires were almost hidden underneath the engine, barely noticeable too _!”_

 _Panicking a bit, JInyoung started to slowly back up, trying to excuse his odd behavior, “_ I just… I’ve… there’s…. I’ve seen this before!”

 _Relief welled up inside Jinyoung as he quickly thought up a lie. “_ My dad has his own collection of cars, and one of them was bought from _an idiot seller._ He sold my dad a car _that seemed perfect to a novice on the outside, but lacked important features like adequate brake line and engine wiring._ He almost crashed it _into our garage door when he first tried to drive it! Needless to say,_ we all learned something new that day. _”_

_Even though some words were lost in translation, his answer seemed to appease the American. What happened next was something Jinyoung would never forget._

_“You have… talent._ I’m not entirely sure what you said, but anyone can tell that you have a gift! And your English is a whole lot better than my Korean, so _… I am…deceased teacher.... You work!_

_Covering his mouth to stifle a laugh, Jinyoung began smiling for the first time over the course of their encounter. The American obviously had very limited korean skills (as supported by his mispronunciation), but Jinyoung understood the meaning nonetheless._

_Rolling his eyes playfully, the American joined in on Jinyoung’s laughter, earnestly exclaiming, “_ You can obviously understand my English and my terrible Korean pronunciation. You seem to be very smart, so I’ll ask my previous question again in English: How would you like to work at the auto shop my friend runs? Your smarts would be very useful in a place like that!” 

_Jinyoung’s laughter petered out as his brain caught up to the stranger’s offering. At first, he thought he was joking. Jinyoung may have looked older for his age, but he was still only ten years old! Additionally, he didn’t even know if anything the other was saying was true. If there even was a “friend” who owned an auto shop. As the Americans in kids shows always said, “stranger danger!”. What if this was all a fake offer? What if this was a setup designed to lure in naive kids into pitying the other man with the beautiful, broken car? If this was all real and he was able to work in an auto shop, what would his parents think?_

_But the opportunity to work as a mechanic… that was one step closer at accomplishing his dream! And the feeling he was searching after for six long years, he found that again in that moment where he was able to successfully deduce the problem and come up with a credible solution. For a brief moment, he was able to get lost in the design and block out all of the other negative thoughts of the day. The voices of his classmates teasing was blissfully erased and that feeling of accomplishment replaced everything else. Jinyoung so badly wanted to experience that feeling again, and he realized he was willing to do whatever it takes to make it happen._

_Nodding his head quickly, Jinyoung stepped towards the other with an outstretched hand._ “Deal!”

 _Smiling, the American accepted the other’s handshake, his calloused hands almost completely covering Jinyoung’s tiny ones._ “Sounds great! I’ll write down the address for you, maybe we’ll see you there tonight!”

_After saying goodbye to the American, waving to the taillights of the speeding mustang with one hand and firmly grasping the paper with the address in the other, Jinyoung felt… content. For the first time in forever, he felt like he found a friend._

* * *

_That night, Jinyoung went to the address and he found out that the American was not lying. His name turned out to be Jack O’Brian, 20 years old and an engineering student drop-out from California. He found out that he was not made to work a desk job as a Computer Engineer his whole life, and dropped out to pursue the mechanics hobby he loved with a friend from college. That friend turned out to be named Hong-gi, who was born (but not raised) in Dobong-dong, Korea. His parents moved him to America, where he attended school from pre-K to sophomore year of college. The two met in a coding class at Harvey Mudd in California and realized they both had similar extracurricular hobbies. Once the two discovered that they also shared a similar hatred of boring, average desk jobs, they dropped out together and both got jobs working as mechanics in Southern California._

_For hours, Jinyoung listened as the two men talked about their lives, fascinated at their many stories they had to tell. He discovered that neither of the men’s parents approved of their lives, and disowned them as soon as they could. Even so, the two men were able to make a solid living out of their jobs, and once they got the hang of “suping up” various models, they were able to make an even greater amount of money by modifying various cars for different clients. The two seemed to be great friends, even after Hong-gi left to go back to Korea to start his own business, H &J Car Project, which catered to high paying clients with exotic, expensive cars. Though, as Jinyoung watched the two of them interact, it appeared that Jack and Hong-gi had an even deeper connection than what was at the surface. _

_“ Jinyoung-sshi, will you please convince Jack here to stay and work with us? I’ve been trying to teach him Korean for years, but he probably needs to learn from a more native speaker than myself!” Hong-gi laughs at himself, arm thrown around the back of the couch, resting just above Jack’s shoulders. Jack rolls his eyes fondly, seeming to gravitate towards Hong-gi unknowingly._ “I know he’s saying things about me, I can clearly hear my name! I’m not that ineloquent!” 

_Jinyoung laughs at the other two, putting his hand up to cover his mouth in an effort to look more polite. The three were sitting in the center of the shop, Jack and Hong-gi on the tattered, leather sofa and Jinyoung perched on top of a work stool, slouching a bit with his hands in his pockets most of the time. When he first sat down, he sat up straight with his hands in his lap like he was taught to look respectful in front of his elders. He was immediately corrected by Hong-gi, who exclaimed “ No need to look so stiff, Jinyoung-ssi! This is a place of comfort and integrity! No need to look so formal. In fact, you can even refer to us with just our names, or even hyung if you prefer! As long as you're ok with me dropping the formalities as well!” Jinyoung liked him immediately._

_Diving back into the previous discussion, Jinyoung replied, “Jack-hyung, y_ ou need to learn more Korean if you are going to be working with two Koreans and staying in Korea _! What better way to learn than by us teaching you?”_

 _Sighing in fake defeat, Jack slowly raised his hands in mock surrender. “_ Fine! Fine, I tell you! I’ll be the best American Korean speaker in the world!” _And as the three men burst into laughter again, Jinyoung finally felt at home and at peace with himself._

_For a year, Jinyoung worked as a mechanic at Hong-Gi’s shop. Even though he was noticeably younger than the other employees, Hong-Gi never demanded his age or asked him personal questions. Jinyoung suspected that the other had an inkling about his familial and school situation, but he was always grateful that the other never asked him about it. Even when Jinyoung showed up to the shop after school, near tears after yet another failed attempt at fitting in with the other kids, Hong-gi would always just pat him on the back, hand him a wrench and steer him towards their most problematic car of the week._

_That was another thing. During his time at the shop, Jinyoung knew that there were very noticeable times when his powers would allow him to see and fix things that seemed unfixable to normal humans. Sometimes, he would forget himself and correctly identify an issue without even looking into the car. Every time, however, Hong-gi and/or Jack would just stare at him proudly and let him work on whatever he wanted to at that moment. Never questioning, never judging. Just standing off to the side like proud parents as they watched their protege impress even their most fickle and ill-tempered customers._

_Soon, Jinyoung developed a reputation for himself as one of the best mechanics in Seoul. People from all across the city, and even outside, would come to him looking for repairs or upkeep. For a time, Jinyoung was in heaven. He felt happy at being valued over his powers and finally having friends who supported him and treated him like he was part of the family. He loved the atmosphere of the shop, so much so that he started to skip classes and school in order to head over to the shop instead._

_Looking back, that was probably where his life went wrong._

* * *

Jinyoung regretted that he had to leave Korea so abruptly after his parents found out about his “after school activities”. He didn’t regret getting the job that took up so much of his life, and he would always cherish the time he spent in that auto shop. But the guilt would stay with him for years due to the fact that he never even got to say goodbye to the only two friends, the only _safe space,_ he had ever had in his hometown. The shop he worked in, while on the more illegal side of things, was the only place he had ever felt truly appreciated, accepted, for his abnormal abilities. He was _good_ at what he did, and he was never ridiculed or perceived as anything other than _extraordinary_. Hong-gi and Jack provided the kind of unconditional parental love and support that JInyoung had always secretly craved and he would always remember wishing that those two would be his real family. The shop was where he learned how to manage the schematics and as his ability and capability grew, he even discovered his powers also included telekinetic abilities (which he hypothesized helped him manage and manipulate the electronics even better; then again, who knows!). But, like Icarus, he flew too close to the sun, was too greedy with chasing the feeling of worthiness, and (of course) it was his self-obsessed parents that burnt his wings off and brought him crashing back down into the cold waves of reality.

The word ‘leave’ suggested that he even had a say in the matter. No, the words “forced out” seem to be a better fit to describe the way his parents practically dragged him out of their penthouse apartment and on to a plane to the states in order to preserve their own reputation. They didn't want their son to grow up to be a "lowly mechanic" involved with other lowlifes, especially after hearing rumors about the owner's... unconventional "relationship". After years of listening to reports about how _abnormal_ Jinyoung was despite their best efforts, apparently they decided they had enough of the embarrassment. Lucky for him (sarcasm), his father knew the headmaster of a school in America, a prestigious one in which Jinyoung would have to finish his last years before University. So Jinyoung was torn away from the only real familial connections he had ever had and was thrust onto a plane with all of his things packed into a single suitcase. After the trip, he never saw nor heard from his parents since. He was only thirteen at the time.

Anyways, Jinyoung had made a lot of decisions in his young life, some of which were more extreme and severe than others. But this one took the cake.

What started off as a semi-normal day took a turn for the worst, seeing as how someone died. Not just anyone, either. His arch-enemy and occasional thorn in his side Red Dragon was dead. All because Jinyoung forgot to take out the stupid, self-invented ray gun in his school bag. I mean, what kind of self proclaimed evil genius forgets that he’s toting around a deathly, semi-unstable, sonic detonator on a daily basis?

He first realized his mistake on his way to surprise his younger classmate, Yugyeom, at the Loyola gymnasium in the day of the… accident. You see, this whole disaster started off as nothing more than an urge for Jinyoung. He found out Yugyeom’s secret and since he was basically like Yugyeom’s older brother, he _needed_ to confront Yugyeom about it. Just like any older brother would when he found out that the younger had his first crush! It was an important time in the other’s life, and Jinyoung wanted to be there for him to… you know. Support him or whatever. This innocent idea was what brought Jinyoung to the area of interest on that day and was the catalyst for everything to have happened hereinafter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, short chapter. And I went in a different direction than I said I would (sorry!)  
> Every time I tried to write Mark and Jackson, it didn't go in the direction I wanted it to! And Jaebum has been staying oddly silent about the entire matter.  
> Jinyoung, though, really wanted me to focus on him and write his side of everything. So that's what I did. Hopefully you enjoy! I wrote his backstory, which helped me out a lot, so maybe I'll revise and post that soon. I also wrote the rest of this chapter, but I wanted to post a tidbit to see how this works in the grande scheme of things.  
> Yugyeom will make his grande debut in the next chapter YAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!  
> So this work really hasn't been Jackson-centric, which is probably how this work will be for the next two-ish chapters. Next one may be a doozy (read:really long) because it's when we'll see the aftermath and what our villains have done with our beloved city... can't give too much away but we'll see both our villains and our heroes next time! :) stay tuned! and as always, kudos and comments give me motivation to work so leave some love if you can!


	5. Why Jinyoung is a Genius But Not Very Smart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok! I've been gone for a bit... and I am very sorry... but now I am back! With a brand new chapter! 
> 
> As I said before, Jinyoung really wanted the focus to be on him this time... so we'll get his view for this chapter, then we'll jump to a week later to see what they've done with the place. I had to split this up into two chapters because I wanted to show y'all just how ill-fitted our villains are to the #evillife , just like we see in Megamind. 
> 
> Also,YUGYEOM IS HERE!!! Guess who he has a crush on... 
> 
> As always, let me know about any spelling mistakes or general got7 errors. I'm doing my best to remember nicknames and stuff, but I'm not the greatest, being an international aghase... anyways, read and enjoy!

Jinyoung jogged up the steps of the sports complex, digging through his backpack in search of his fake Loyola University ID. Normally, Jinyoung would never be caught dead in a gym filled with other gross, sweaty, hormone amped students (he pays extra to go to a high quality _private_ gym, thank you very much), but today was a special day. He had overheard a conversation between two of his younger classmates, Bambam and Yugyeom, while he _happened_ to be meandering by their open dorm room. From what he could gather, Yugyeom had asked Bambam to make him a fake Loyola University Student ID, which was suspicious for three reasons: Yugyeom attended JYP International Prep, he did not know anybody that attended that university (Jinyoung had to look up his facebook page for the details… it was interesting to say the least), and he wasn’t even old enough to attend university. Now, Jinyoung considered himself a smart person, a genius even. He had noticed that Yugyeom had been acting oddly the past couple of weeks, to say the least. Always spaced out and acting extra happy for seemingly no reason, almost like he was under some sort of spell. So, being a concerned hyung that he was ( _stop laughing, Jaebum!)_ , he made it his mission to figure out the new puzzle that was being laid out before his eyes. It wasn’t because he was bored or because he had nothing to do…. No, not at all.

Let it be said that Jinyoung did nothing by halves. When he was committed to something, he was fully committed. So after he heard _that_ interesting conversation between the troublesome duo, he waited outside the room, very casually, until Bambam walked out. He then (not so casually) _convinced_ Bambam to spill the tea by placing some vague, very subtle threats in every other sentence. 

What he found out from that conversation was that he threatened Bambam too much in Korean class since the younger seemed to be unaffected by his menacing glare, the hand holding him against the wall, and the venomous words attacking him. At least the younger was still scared enough to make Jinyoung a fake ID so he could figure it out himself.

So here Jinyoung was, digging through his backback for the well-made badge that would get him through the doors (and 85% closer to solving the mystery) when he saw it. There, in his backpack, was the faint blue glow of his latest invention buried underneath stacks of essays, folders, pens, wallet and other school supplies. Jinyoung wasn’t normally a “messy” person, but that morning he was crunched for time and had to shove anything he could grab from his desk into his bag in order to both surprise Yugyeom and then later meet Bambam and Youngjae for a study session. Looking back, Jinyoung could now see that he should have turned right on his heels and headed straight back to the “lair” in order to return the potentially catastrophic item to a safe, destruction proof location. The gun wasn’t even an official prototype yet, just something that Jinyoung created during another one of his sleepless nights.

Instead, he acted like a character in a B-rated horror movie and shrugged off the nagging voice in his gut that screamed, “ _turn around!_ ”. The opportunity to figure out the puzzle and thereby be granted an exclusive pass to tease Yugyeom about it was just too great of a prize for him to pass up! So, ignoring the faint ominous glow of the contraption in his backpack, Jinyoung continued his path towards his younger friend and finally grabbed the Loyola ID out of his bag. As he scanned the card and walked through the doors, he immediately spotted the hunched over figure of his classmate sitting at the receptionist desk, playing on his phone and practically ignoring everyone around him.

Shaking his head and smirking to himself, Jinyoung conscientiously made his footsteps heavier and made his way over to the younger. When he finally made it up to the circular desk, his footsteps not breaking the other’s concentration in the slightest, Jinyoung leaned over the barricade in order to see what was taking up so much of Yugyeom’s attention. When he saw what appeared to be a livestream of a fencing match on the tiny home screen, Jinyoung rolled his eyes and let out a huff of disappointment. _Seriously, Jackson must be some sort of super… It’s the only way that he could have so many guys incapable of making proper choices whenever he’s involved._

Smacking his hand hard against the table near Yugyeom, Jinyoung let himself have a couple moments of laughter as Yugyeom dropped his phone and let out an audible shriek, before smoothing his face back into a serious expression. He watched the younger scramble to reorient himself after the sudden shock to his system as he walked towards the other side of the desk and allowed himself into the receptionist space. “Seriously, Yugyeom-ah? I thought digging up dirt on you would have been so much more… enjoyable than _this_.” drolled Jinyoung, his hand flippantly gesturing at Yugyeom.

“Jinyoung-hyung! I… what? How did you find me?!” Yugyeom whisper-shrieked, trying his best to scooch as far away from the older boy as his wheelie chair would allow, his phone laying forgotten on the floor. 

Jinyoung idly poked around the various items of the tiny space, giving off an air of vague interest the entire time. “I bribed another student to tell me where you always scurry off to after school. And by bribed, I mean threatened. And by student, I mean Bambam. And by scurry off, I mean creepily follow after. Seriously, what is up with Jackson that everyone seems to be lovestruck whenever they spend more than four minutes with him? I don’t understand. It seems as if only Youngjae and I are immune to his charms. Even his best friend, Matt or whatever, seem to be practically in love with the guy with the way they’re always attached at the hip!” Jinyoung exclaimed with a dramatic flourish.

Yugyeom sank lower in his seat with every word, red blush creeping up onto his face as Jinyoung sat opposite of him, feeling more exposed than ever in front of the other. “Jinyoung-hyung, I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Letting out a bark of laughter, Jinyoung leaned back against the desk and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Let me count the ways in which you, Kim Yugyeom, are a lying liar who has an unhealthy obsession with one Jackson Wang,” Jinyoung dramatically exclaimed, ignoring the other’s attempt to shush him and raised his pointer finger up in the air, “One! You were watching a livestream of his fencing performance and always keep up to date with his activities online. The video is still playing on your phone, by the way.” Jinyoung said with a pointed look at Yugyeom’s phone from which the fencing match could still be heard.Yugyeom practically dove out of his seat and snatched his phone from off the ground, his face as red as a tomato. Ignoring the other’s pitiful attempts to get Jinyoung to stop talking, he continued, “Second! In Korean class, whenever you’re partnered with Jackson, you turn into an ineloquent, stuttering mess. At first, I assumed it was either because of lack of sleep, that you were cursed by a witch, or that you reached a new level of prepubescent clumsiness due to your gangly, overgrown limbs. However, upon further review that I just made in the last eight seconds, it is glaringly obvious that you are head over heels for the fencer! Even though I am probably the smartest in that class, there is a chance that the other less-smart people have figured that out however improbable that may be. His best friend is probably suspicious of your intentions towards Jackson by now. It got even worse after Bambam’s party a couple weeks ago, now that I think about it… Anyways, third-”

“Jinyoung-hyung, please stop tal-”

“THIRD!” Jinyoung shouted, slapping a hand over Yugyeom’s mouth and ignoring the curious stares of the students around them. “Yugyeom-ah, you can’t interrupt, I’m _monologuing._ Third, you practically insert yourself into any situation that involves helping Jackson even a little bit. I’ve seen you practically bodyslam Youngjae out of the way in order for you to be the one to offer Jackson a dumb pencil to replace the one he broke. I mean, that’s a bit obsessive, don’t you think. And I save the best for last!” Stepping back and removing his hand from Yugyeom’s mouth, Jinyoung gestured to the entire facility that surrounded them, spinning around on his heels for dramatic effect. “You literally, somehow, scammed your way in to working a part time job at a college that you don’t even attend! Probably because you knew that Jackson attends most of his fencing matches here and you wanted to be near him. I mean, you barely look legal, how did these people hire you when you look like you’re 13? Bad managing, probably. Am I right or am I right, Yuggie?” 

Slumping in defeat, Yugyeom covered his face with his hands, embarrassment preventing him from looking at Jinyoung in the eyes. “Oh my god, it sounds way too creepy when you say it like that!”

Jinyoung, feeling slightly proud of himself that he was able to embarrass his younger friend like this, decided to put the other out of his misery. “So, Yugyeom. Care to explain your stalker-like tendencies?”

A soft whine escaped from between Yugyeom’s hands, the freshman sitting back into his chair and rubbing his face, eventually letting his hands fall to his sides and stared off into the ceiling, face still burning with embarrassment. “Hyung, there’s nothing to say!”

“....”

“Jinyoung-hyung! I mean it!”  
“....” 

“Stop looking at me like that!”

“....”

“ALRIGHT FINE!”

Jinyoung smiled triumphantly, the menacing glare vanishing off of his face. “Go on then, Gyeommie! Tell your hyung all about it!”

Yugyeom glared half-heartedly at his so-called ‘caring’ friend, wringing his hands together as he prepared to tell Jinyoung everything. “Ah… well… you see… Jackson and I… got…. _together_ … at Bambam’s party?” Yugyeom mumbled, his words disconnected and quiet.

Jinyoung’s whole body unwillingly jerked at the younger’s statement, brain trying to process the new information. He had about twenty seconds to put his monologue together about Yugyeom’s crush, that he had _assumed_ was one-sided, but this new puzzle piece threw the whole picture off kilter. “Wait, so you two…?”

Yugyeom nodded his head, face somehow becoming even redder at the implication. “Yeah…it’s just, I had a crush on him for a while and I was a little drunk and he was drunk but everything was consensual!” Yugyeum rushed out, hands fluttering around as he talked. “I don’t think he realized who I really was until the… the morning after. And he asked if we could still be friends, he was so _nice_ about the whole thing, and I said yes but I think… I think I really like him so I tried to… _woo_ him as best I could! So I’ve been trying to show him that I could be a good… boyfriend to him and Bambam suggested I start working here so that I could see him more often outside of class but I never do and people always look at me strange, probably because I am pretty tall but look younger…Even when I see him, I have to hide because I also thought it was weird if he actually _saw_ me working here but it was nice to see him outside of class! It’s… been a stressful past couple of weeks, hyung!” 

Jinyoung stared open-mouthed at Yugyeom, feeling a bit overwhelmed at the new situation he was presented with. _Looks like JB has some competition._

Moving to kneel beside the distraught freshman, Jingyoung placed a hand on the other’s knee, doing his best to try to comfort his friend. “Yugyeom-ah. This may not be my place to ask and you do not have to answer, but I would like to know because it would clear things up a bit for the both of us. Was Jackson….was he…you know… your first?”

Hands wringing together, Yugyeom looked down and away from Jinyoung, his head slowly nodding. Sighing, Jinyoung continued, “Yugyeom, does he know?’

Wet eyes stared straight at Jinyoung as the other shook his head.

Now, Jinyoung was not usually a very tactile person but he also wasn’t _completely_ heartless. He was the person who caused the metaphorical emotional dam inside the younger to break and spill over, so he thought he at least owed Yugyeom a bit. He took the other’s hand in his and carefully wrapped one arm around Yugyeom’s shoulders, making the other lean in to him. The two were moderately close in school, having shared some of the same classes and lived on the same floor with overlapping friend groups, but Jinyoung never felt as close to the other as he did in that moment. Ignoring the slight wetness building near his collarbone where Yugyeom buried his face into, Jinyoung started to slowly stroke the others back, hoping his movements would give the other some comfort. “Yugyeom, why didn’t you say anything? I just thought I would come here to embarass you, not make you cry!”

Laughing wetly, Yugyeom shrugged his shoulders, leaning back out of Jinyoung’s grip and wiping his face with his t-shirt. “I didn’t think we were at that stage in our friendship, Jinyoung-hyung. I should have asked you, though, because Bammie gives the _worst_ advice!”

The two boys burst into laughter, surprising a couple students as they walked by. Stifling their laughter, Jinyoung stood up and stretched out his legs and arms. “Don’t worry, Yugyeom-ah. You’re not the only freshman who’s fallen in love with their elder after having a one night stand. Especially when their elder looks and acts like Jackson Wang. Jackson and I may not be the closest, but after working with him in class, I can say that he’s intelligent, funny, creative, athletic, and talented. However, those same words of praise do not stretch into his ability to perceive others emotions. You should tell him. I’m sure you’ll either get a boyfriend out of this. An older, hotter boyfriend at that,” Jinyoung winked at Yugyeom, avoiding his half-hearted swat at Jinyoung’s stomach, “Or you’ll get the nicest let down in history and you’ll be able to tell yourself that, at the very least, you tried!”

As if a switch had been flicked on inside of Yugyeom’s head, Jinyoung watched as the embarrassment faded away and determination replaced the look on the younger’s face. Yugyeom pushed his chair back and stood up at full high, causing Jinyoung to look up instead of down. _Curse Yugyeom’s freakishly tall genes!_

Yugyeom stuck out his hand which Jinyoung reluctantly took. “Jinyoung-hyung! Thank you for your words! I will do my best and try to ask out Jackson-hyung and make him see me as more than just a naive freshman! And if he says no, I swear I won’t become a lovestruck teenager in an old Taylor Swift music video anymore!” As Yugyeom vigorously shook the older’s hand, all Jinyoung could do was nod in agreement, smiling slightly at Yugyeom’s enthusiasm. While his attention was still on Jinyoung, the eldest took the time to firmly grip the hand in his grasp and tug Yugyeom closer to him.

“So, Yugyeom, I’ve been dying to know… Did Jackson prefer to give or receive?”

Jinyoung laughed as his words got the desired effect, watching as Yugyeom quickly let go of his hand as if he had been burnt and scrambled away, stuttering out ineligible words all the while. “Yugyeom-ah, I was kidding! Don’t be such a prude.” Jinyoung said, ruffling Yugyeom’s hair. “Besides, we both know he’s more of a twunk than a hunk, am I right?” 

Before Yugyeom could grab Jinyoung and strangle the other like he desperately wanted to do ever since the conversation started, Yugyeom noticed the other’s stare was a bit too far to the right of his head. Quickly spinning around, Yugyeom’s stomach dropped and his whole body froze. He would recognize that bright red hair anywhere and the person connected to it was quickly approaching up the steps to the facility now.

In a fluid motion, Yugyeom reached behind him and grabbed whatever piece of fabric his hand landed on. Ignoring Jinyoung’s squawk of protest, Yugyeom roughly jerked the other forward towards the front end of the desk, letting go just as he ducked underneath in an effort to hide himself from plain view. “Jinyoung, it’s Mark!”

“Mark, who?”

“Jackson’s best friend!” Yugyeom whisper yelled at Jinyoung, listening for the familiar sound of the door opening. “He’s literally in the same class as us and sits next to Jackson every day, how could you not- Aish, that’s not important! He shouldn’t see me here! He’s probably here for the match now!”

Jinyoung looked down incredulously at the hiding figure. “So, you’re saying you were watching a live stream of a match that you could have just… watched in real life?”

“Jinyoung! Now’s not the time to berate me! I’m hiding!” At that moment, Yugyeom heard the doors get roughly pushed open. “Tell him it’s down the hall to the right! He could be lost!”

As Yugyeom hid, Jinyoung did his best to look as professional and greetabl as possible. He was sure Mark wouldn’t recognize him. Or he hoped, because that would definitely be embarrassing if the other recognized him when Jinyoung barely knew who he was. For whatever reason, they were never really paired up in any of the three classes they had together but only knew each other through the talks of the shared mutual friends they had. Clearing his throat, Jinyoung utilized his inner Yugyeom voice and called out to his noticeably stressed classmate, “Mark-hyung! You’re so late! Jackson-hyung is almost done with his match!”

Jinyoung barely restrains himself from sending a judgmental look at the other as Mark just stares at him in shocked silence. A light punch to his leg spurs him to continue talking, his left hand pointing to Mark’s right, “Down this hall, on your left! Maybe you’ll see the last couple of seconds!”

Jinyoung watched as Mark ran away, sending a barely perceivable _Thank you!_ Over his shoulder before disappearing down the hallway. _He may not be the most perceptive person, but he is cute.. I’ll give him that._

Jinyoung’s pulled from his thoughts as he is roughly shoved aside, the space he once filled soon replaced by a grumbling Yugyeom. “The door isn’t on his left when he goes down that hall, it’s straight ahead!”

“Hey, you were the one who literally gave me a five second notice. If I knew I was going to play a receptionist today, I would have worn fancier clothing to complete the part!”

The oncoming fight was soon interrupted as Jinyoung’s phone rang loudly, Shinee’s ‘Lucifer’ playing loudly in the once quiet(ish) facility. Holding up one finger as if pausing their conversation, Jinyoung tugged out his phone from the inside his pocket and answered it in one fluid motion. “Hello, Park Jinyoung here.”

“Jinyounggie, are you done torturing Yugyeom-ah now? We’ve got work to do.”

At hearing the monotonous voice of his so-called best friend, Jinyoung starts slowly backing away from the confines of the circular receptionist desk. “Hyung! I was just leaving. You know me, I had to go all out on embarrassing our precious yugyeommie!” Jinyoung said, making kissy faces at Yugyeom, who returned it with an ugly face of his own. Sighing at the rejection of his aegyo, Jinyoung mouthed _back exit?_ After being pointed in the right direction, Jinyoung resumed his conversation with his impatient roommate, walking quickly in the direction Yugyeom suggested. “I have the ray with me, we’re all set. We’ve been planning this for days, don’t worry!” Jinyoung exclaimed, making sure to avoid that his possession of the untested ray was completely _planned._

“Jinyoung-ah, with you, I always have to worry. We don’t even need the ray yet, why do you even-?”

“Jaebummie, don’t you want to see the miraculous product built with my blood, sweat and tears??”

“I shouldn’t have even asked… Now, the plan is set for tomorrow at Buckingham Fountain. There shouldn’t be a lot of tourists in the early morning, so we should plan it for then. I think we should-”

Jinyoung pushed open the back door, only half-listening to Jaebum as he repeated the same plan that the two had been going over for the past five days. JB and Jinyoung had worked together for the past couple of years, after they found out about each other’s powers when they were roommates during their first semester, so Jinyoung was used to the whole overprepared pre-battle spiel Jaebum would give the day before. He figured out that if he nodded his head and agreed with Jaebum every once in a while, the other would continue talking and Jinyoung could ignore the speech in favor of literally _anything_ else. 

He hummed along with whatever Jaebum was currently speaking, switching his phone to the other ear in order to tug his backpack off of his arm and around to his front. Digging through his backpack, Jinyoung looked for something to distract him. A book, a pencil to click, even the fidget spinner that he took from Yugyeom’s desk earlier. With half of his mind focused on entertaining the droning one-sided conversation in his ear and the other half looking for a source of entertainment, he didn’t notice that a runaway pen had slipped through the trigger of his sonic ray. It only took one accidental sweep of his hand against the pen to activate the blue ray. Before Jinyoung could even register the sound of the device triggering, he was jerked sideways onto the grass as the ray blasted one side of his backpack open and hit the wall that Jinyoung had walked beside seconds earlier.

The whole event happened in a matter of seconds and there was nothing Jinyoung could do to stop it as he watched a hole replace the spot that solid concrete once held. Belatedly, Jinyoung realized his phone had been thrown to the ground next to him, his screen completely shattered. Luckily he seemed to be unharmed, which could not be said for his half a backpack that he had left, as he sat up and watched the smoke rise. Surveying the scene, Jinyoung winced as he noticed a couple of passed out students who were located too close to the blast site. Otherwise, the scene was blessedly clear.

_Hopefully they won't remember any of this..._

He sat back on one arm as he ran his other hand through his now soot/dirt covered hair. “Jaebum is gonna be so mad at me when he sees this…”

Jinyoung froze as he heard familiar, boot covered footsteps approach from behind him. “Jaebum- _HYUNG_ is actually _furious_ at you, Jinyoung-ah.”

Jinyoung whirled around just in time to catch the watch that was thrown directly at his chest. His eyes looked up to meet his best friends cold, unforgiving glare and he felt a tiny twinge of fear rise up in his gut. Darting his glance away from the other’s face, Jinyoung noticed that Jaebum was already in full uniform, his suit already charged and ready. 

“Jaebum-hyung, I can explain-”

“We’ll talk later. Honestly, I sort of expected this. You’re lucky I happened to be in the area. We’ll do the plan today so suit up now and let’s go inside. Red Dragon should be here any minute and we’ve wasted too many seconds.”

Jinyoung could only nod as he quickly put the watch on his wrist, activating the handy device as soon as he could. Ten seconds later, Project J stood side-by-side with Dark Soul, both in full battle regalia with their helmets open and suits glowing a faint blue as Dark Soul’s powers energized their suits. Project J quickly suppressed the orange schematics that popped up into his field of vision, instead focusing on “gripping” the both of them with his telekinetic abilities. As the two rose into the air, he briefly glanced at Jaebum before their helmets snapped into place. The glimpse of the ‘angry chin’ was all Jinyoung needed to see as they floated towards the still dust covered ruins of the gym. If things didn't go according to plan during this impromptu 85% pre-prepared battle, he would definitely be getting an earful later. 

And…. well… you know what happens next. It did go according to plan. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Next chapter will be a week in the future (hopefully posted within the week). I've decided against the markson reunion. It just doesn't fit the general flow of the story, but maybe I'll do a dramatic one-shot later. I've written their reunion already, but I wasn't happy with the direction it would take the story in so I decided against publishing it in this work. So look out for another series, written by me, focusing on tidbits I've written that just don't fit in my story flow! Maybe I'll just post tidbits on tumblr, I haven't decided yet.
> 
> Also, Jinyoung's origin story has been written, so watch out for that!
> 
> Did it surprise you that Yugyeom had a crush on Jackson? Thoughts? Let me hear them!
> 
> Kudos, comments, and favorites are much appreciated!


	6. In My Feelings - Mark Tuan Edition

“Good evening everyone. Happy Friday! The time is now 7:00 pm and we will begin with the daily announcements. 

It has now officially been a week since Project J and Dark Soul seized command of the Chicagoland area. With their cunning skills and extraordinary foresight, our supreme leaders were finally able to deceive and eviscerate the menace that was Red Dragon. As per their orders, all facilities that were previously run by the incapable city government will henceforth be seized and shut down as our overlords remake the city into something that we can all be proud of. Schools will be shut down in order for the new curriculum to be set up. The boundaries of the city are still closed off and guarded by the robots, built and created by the genius Project J. This technological protege is continuing to uphold the outside communication ban, but has been merciful enough to grant us the ability to keep our Chicago radio stations and news broadcast so that we may keep up to date on the whereabouts, new policies, and warnings from our saviors. In turn, Dark Soul has also provided us with the working electricity we need to power everything from water purification systems to charging our phones. For these things, and many others, we thank our new leaders.

In other news, people are advised to stay inside for their own protection as Dark Soul and Project J supporters seize various properties. These groups will soon become the protectors, leaders, and givers of the communities they possess, as promised. Soon enough, the city that was once a corrupt mass of incompitent city officials will become a new utopia that all Chicagoans can enjoy equally. 

There have bee-”

Mark Tuan sighed and turned the TV off, slumping even further down into the soft, well-worn beige couch. He threw the remote carelessly to the side, not even blinking as the remote came apart (again), sending the protective cap and batteries flying in all directions. He grabbed his hood and flipped it over his face, pulling the strings until all you could see was his nose peeking out from inside the bright orange hoodie. Collapsing sideways onto the couch, Mark let himself sprawl out completely as he let himself regret his most recent life choices.

Mark blindly reached behind himself, searching for the comfortable “stress-blanket” that he and Jackson bought on a whim years before. The blanket was made of a fleece-like, pale blue material and had a cute, cartoon-ish koala bear eating bamboo on it with big, soft pink bubble letters underneath exclaiming “You’re more than koala-fied!”. Jackson said the blanket made him feel validated from the instant he saw it. Mark just agreed because he thought the Koala looked sort of cute. 

Once his hand felt the familiar material, wedged inside of the couch, he gave a strong tug and freed the blanket from in between the cushions. He immediately covered his entire body by curling up into a ball underneath and finally let out a yell of frustration he had been pushing down for the past couple of days. Holding his knees against his chest, Mark started to think about the repercussions of his “heat of the moment” decision to let the villains have control of the city. 

In all honesty, he expected his plan to go a hell of a lot better. Mark always had a weird, niggling feeling in his gut every time he fought against his “arch-rivals”. During every battle, Mark always noticed that they fought in areas away from crowded parts of the city, like over the water or in large parks. There were usually very little casualties or injuries to civilians, and even when the villains kidnapped Jackson, it was never done maliciously or with the intent to harm. At first, Mark attributed that to his own superhero abilities, using his power responsibly in a way that protected the civilians and his best friend from all harm. But if he thought about it, it was usually the villains who chose the battleground and Mark would just meet their challenge head on, no matter the location. The latest battle went against the norm, which Mark noticed a little while later than he should of, and his gut instinctively told him something was off about the entire thing.

While he was “trapped”in the Planetarium, Mark had some time to think about what all of these collected data points meant. Even while Project J was threatening to obliterate the hero, Mark thought it still felt… wrong somehow. Project J and Dark Soul had to have known that by telling Mark their plan, they were giving Mark enough time to escape. After a cursory glance to his surroundings, he noticed that there was literally  _ nothing  _ keeping him trapped in the place. Project J’s bots were probably nearby, but Mark’s fire had melted them once before and he knew he could do it again if he wanted to. 

At that moment, Mark decided to try his riskiest plan yet. He was tired of fighting, tired of going home with bruises and lacerations. The villains never seemed to take it easy on him, and he was tired of being the punching bag all the time. He was  _ especially _ done with seeing Jackson kidnapped every week. Jackson was his best friend, his bro for life, and even though he had never really been hurt before, the image of Jackson’s bruised and bloody face would be an image Mark would be seeing every time he closed his eyes. He wouldn’t let his friend be hurt any more because of him, even if it might not have been intentional. 

He had logical reasoning on his side, too; If the villains were truly evil, and if they had no hero to stop them, they would do what they have always claimed to do and mercilessly take over the city for power and wealth. If this was the case, Mark’s “sudden death” could be reversed, and he’d take them down once and for all. He’d finally put a stop to everything.

But something in his gut told him that this wouldn’t be the case. 

So he made a quick decision, pretended to be dead, and had a tearful reunion with his best friend, filling Jackson in on all of the details. Mark could tell Jackson didn’t fully agree with him, still scarred with the front-row view of Mark’s death at the hands of the villains, but he gave his support nonetheless and didn’t argue with Mark’s reasoning. 

Now, a week later, Mark wish Jackson would have smacked some sense into him. 

Usually, at this time of day, the two friends could be found either celebrating Jackson’s latest win or out exploring the city. Ever since the villains took over the city, however, JYP International Prep decided it was in the students’ best interest to remain indoors in their dorms until it was deemed” safe to leave”. All classes, extracurriculars and athletics were canceled along with every other school in the area, for an undetermined amount of time. It had only taken three days for the two boys to become bored out of their minds. 

In the beginning, they hung out with their floor mates and tried to pass the time by playing games, throwing parties, or even cleaning. Since outside communications were banned, cell phones stopped working and access to social media was denied. The students could still send messages to one another but not to anyone outside the Chicagoland area. In a fit of boredom, each student tried their best to prank call one another. That didn’t last long.

After the third day, students began to give up on finding any kind of stimulating activity to partake in and started staying in their rooms more and more often. 

Which leads us to today. The seventh day.

Jackson Wang and Mark Tuan were roommates their freshman year at JYP International, and have kept up the tradition ever since. With two high-ride beds on opposite walls, a single window on the far end, dresser drawers under each bed and a desk located at the foot of each bed, their room looked like a typical dorm room that you could find at any American school. That’s where the resemblance ends, however, as the two roommates were anything but ordinary. With Mark coming from a wealthy family, he had the money and the resources to make their room as unique as possible. For starters, a flatscreen TV was hung up right over the doorway of their room, with video game consoles connected to the media center placed haphazardly in the corner of their room. Their room was one of the few that were located on the third floor of the dorm, which gave them extra ceiling height and access to the roof through their window. 

Mark’s side of the room was filled with different musical artists he admired as well as a few newspaper clippings of the funnier rescues he’s had to do with Jackson (the picture of Jackson covered in glue and feathers with Mark in full costume holding Jackson in a bridal carry was probably Mark’s favorite). His closet consisted of his favorite clothing items, ranging from Target to designer, all ordered and put away nicely. 

Jackson’s side of the room was more  _ vibrant _ than Mark’s minimalistic, neat style. He hung up pictures of cars, artists, Pokemon cards he somehow always found, movie ticket stubs, flyers of events he participated in, polaroids of his friends and family, and anything else that he deemed “important”. His bed contained multiple plushies, all gifts from his “friends”, and about four different kinds of pillows from when he couldn’t decide which one was fluffier (then subsequently forgot to return when he found his answer). His desk proudly displayed the multiple trophies, ribbons, and prizes he had won in various fencing competitions, with homework and other papers caught up in the fray. His closet contained a lot more workout-type materials than Mark’s as well as a box of snapbacks during his “wild-and-sexy” phase.

They had enough in their rooms to have been theoretically entertained for weeks. But Mark, being an enhanced being, could feel himself starting to become stir crazy. Using his powers usually helped him work off the excess energy his body created, but since no one was allowed outside and Red Dragon was dead, Mark had no way to relieve his energy. All he could do was watch TV and see how miserably his plan has been going so far. 

Jackson tried to help cheer him up at the beginning, forcing him to walk around and join him in various activities with his friends. But Jackson’s personality also demanded that he help others and alleviate their concerns about the takeover as well. So instead of getting Jackson all to himself, Mark had to share him with all of the other students in their dorm as Jackson did his best to provide a positive atmosphere in the otherwise dreary city. 

The rational part of Mark’s brain was overwhelmingly proud to be called Jackson’s best friend; only a true-hearted, kind person would be able to put other’s well-being in front of their own to provide some semblance of normalcy as the world around them fell apart. Mark was grateful for Jackson’s unwavering support, never making him feel guilty or demanding he step up as they watched the city descend into hell. Mark knew that Jackson trusted him unconditionally and his loyalty meant more to Mark than anything else in the universe.

However, Mark was human. Meaning he was also extremely jealous and angry that Jackson’s time wasn’t fully devoted towards helping Mark figure out their current problem. Mark reasoned that, now that Jackson knew what the plan was, he should at least bare some responsibility into figuring out when their little experiment should be put to an end. 

He also knew that Jackson was also spending more time with  _ Yugyeom _ , which left Mark feeling out-of-place and (he hated to admit it) lonely. As Jackson’s best friend, shouldn’t he get more time with the other than Yugyeom, some one-night-stand with no prior history with Jackson?!

Before he could further spiral into a pit of self-deprecation, the blanket was snatched away from him. Knowing that Jackson was the only person that could be in their shared dorm, Mark just turned to face towards the couch, content to ignore his best friend. 

“Man, you look like a hermit. That sweatpants-hoodie outfit you’ve got going on screams  _ I’ve given up on everything _ .” 

Mark knew Jackson was right, but he preferred not to inflate the other’s ego more than he had to. Instead, he just shrugged and tried to make himself become one with the couch.

Mark could feel Jackson still standing over him on his place on the couch and reluctantly turned onto his back, loosening the hood a little so he could peek out at his roommate. Upon seeing Jackson’s determined glare, he knew that he would be receiving another one of Jackson’s lectures and tried to roll back. Before he could get far, he felt Jackson grab his arm and roughly tug him up into a seated position, the hoodie unceremoniously yanked off of his face with Jackson’s other hand. A little shocked at Jackson’s forceful move, but not willing to let himself be manhandled, Mark yanked his arm from Jackson’s grip and stood toe to toe with the other male, feeling his irrational anger and jealousy uncontrollably rise with each passing second.

“Jackson, what the hell was that for?!” Even though Mark was only three inches taller than the other, he used the height in his favor to tower over Jackson in an attempt to make the other relent.

Jackson stood up straight and met Mark’s fierce glower evenly, apparently not perturbed by the size different. “You’re wallowing in your own misery again, Mark. It isn’t a good look for a newly retired superhero.”

Mark scoffed and glanced away,not willing to meet his friend’s eyes because of how accurate the description was. Shoving his hands into his sweatpants pockets, Mark tried to project an uncaring attitude to protect himself from Jackson’s searching looks. “I am not retired, I am undercover. I was not wallowing in my own misery, I was just frustrated by having been abandoned by my closest friend since he apparently believes that his relationship with Yugyeom is more important than ours.”

Mark felt a pang of regret as he saw the hurt flare up in Jackson’s eyes but the need to lash out was stronger than the need to comfort his friend in that moment. 

Similarly, Jackson saw the uncertainty and agony clearly displayed in Mark’s expression. When he walked into the room, the image of Mark’s unmoving form underneath their stress blanket provided a clear indication of Mark’s mental state. Jackson had to sit by and watch as Mark scoured the news reports daily in order to find any truth to his hypothesis about the villains. However, with each passing day the crime rates skyrocketed and the villains gave no indication that they were anything other than pure evil, causing Mark to slowly lose hope and submit to the self-imposed guilt that his fake death caused. Jackson hated to see his friend in such a state and while he might not fully agree with Mark's idea, he had to give his friend credit; Mark’s intuition was usually right and, being the greatest bestie in the world, Jackson did his best to push aside his ill-feelings towards the villains that almost killed his best friend in order to become Mark’s personal cheerleader and support system. Even if Mark didn’t necessarily see it that way.

With all this in mind, Jackson took a deep, calming breath and pushed down his own desire to put Mark in his place. Taking a slow, steady breath, Jackson continued in a tone that he hoped was even and calm. 

“You know fully well that our friendship means more to me than the world itself. We’ve just been cramped up in the dorm for a while and I thought that you might want some space so I went to try and see how Yugyeom AND Bambam are doing.”

“I never said I wanted space. YOU were the one who ASSUMED that you knew what was best for ME. But you were wrong, AS ALWAYS. I know you just wanted to get away from me, Jackson! I could see it every time you went out to hang out in somebody else’s room. I’m probably not WORTHY enough in your eyes since I’m not your personal bodyguard anymore to save you from whatever STUPID scenario you had gotten yourself caught up in! I mean seriously, who in their right mind allows themselves to be kidnapped EVERY. SINGLE. WEEK?”

Mark’s tone rose with each word, face becoming red with anger with his hands balled into fists at his side. Jackson wrapped his arms around himself unconsciously as he did his best to ignore the hurtful words spewing out of his friend’s mouth and took a step back from the other.

“Mark, you are literally the only person in the world that I think would be worthy enough to have these amazing superpowers. Even if you never got them, I would think you were worthy enough to get to know and become friends with! You’re inspiring, funny, kind and have always been there for me even when I’m not at my best. And I’m trying to do the same for you, right now. I know you feel guilty and struck down because you’re losing hope in your idea, but just give it a couple more days and I’m sure-”

Deep down, Mark knew that Jackson had only the best intentions at heart. If he told anyone else his crazy plan, he knew he would be met with angry individuals demanding that he take action against the villains. But Jackson took Mark’s words in stride and made a noticeable effort to support Mark even though he knew that Jackson would never forgive Dark Soul or Project J for trying to kill him. He loved Jackson like he was his own brother and made a promise to himself that he would protect him with everything he had. Which is why Mark will never forget the look on Jackson’s face when the need to _hurt_ _something_ caused Mark to say this:

“JACKSON! You are the most DIM-WITTED person I know when it comes to ANYTHING even VAGUELY emotional. How can you be sure that my gut-feelings is a SURE THING when you can’t even DISTINGUISH any other feeling out there? I’M not even sure I’m right anymore, which SHOULD tell you that this whole plan was a fluke and that YOU are a complete IDIOT for ever trusting me! Of course, you’ll always support me and follow me, yada yada yada, but can’t you get your OWN life instead of always inserting yourself into MINE? Why don’t you run on back to YUGYEOM. Anybody can see that he wants more than the one night you gave him. Maybe he’ll fuck some feelings into you and boy, has he got A LOT of feelings for you. But you wouldn’t know that now would you? You’ll just string him along and act completely obtuse as the fool throws lovesick glances your way whenever you give him even the SLIGHTEST BIT of attention and only use him for a convenient lay. I know you too, Jackson, and I know that you CRAVE attention and validity and when I couldn’t give it to you, when I REJECTED you all those months ago, you RAN towards whatever source would fill the hole that I LEFT.”

By the end of his whirlwind speech, Mark was almost screaming at Jackson and for a second, he felt a twinge of victory at having shut the other up. The short lived moment was immediately washed away as he noticed the hurt, shock and  _ fear _ in the other’s eyes. During his blind rage, Mark had unwittingly caged Jackson against his bed, Mark’s hands gripping the bed frame on either sides of Jackson’s waist. Mark quickly released his hold and scrambled back as much as he could to give Jackson his space. To his dismay and utter horror, Mark saw that his hands were glowing a faint red and had turned the wooden bed frame black where he had touched it, the smell of burnt wood rising in the air. 

Feeling completely sick with guilt, Mark dropped to his knees and looked up at Jackson with wet eyes. “Oh god… Jackson… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it, you know I would never hurt you and there was absolutely NO TRUTH to anything I said!”

Mark saw Jackson starting to completely shut down, his emotional walls going up to protect him from Mark. Desperate to take his words back and get rid of the glazed look in Jackson’s eyes, Mark tentatively reached out to Jackson’s ankle to try and provide a grounding presence before Jackson completely closed off. Before he could even touch the other, Jackson launched himself over Mark’s outstretched hand and sprinted towards the closet, grabbing the first hoodie he saw, and throwing the door open, desperate to escape the hurtful words still ringing in his ears. 

“JACKSON! WAIT-” Mark screamed out, but the sound of the slamming door cut off the rest of his sentence, leaving him sprawled out on the floor with his hand outstretched and a sense of loss as he watched one of the most important people in his life run away from him. For a moment, it all felt like a dream. Mark laid down on the couch, accidentally fell asleep and was currently having a nightmare that he’d wake up from any moment. But as he turned to look at Jackson’s bed with the scorch marks deeply imbedded into the wood, he knew that he had royally fucked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... it's been a while.... what's good?
> 
> College started up again :/ so I won't have as much time to update! It seems as though not a lot of Jackbeom stories are updating as much since school started (me included, obviously). I feel bad, hope you all are still enjoying this story and will be patient with me during the academic year!
> 
> I've still been checking up on this baby every once in a while. Thank you to the loyal readers, and to some new ones, hope you stick with it! 
> 
> Are people still interested? Hope so :)
> 
> Anyways, wonder where Jackson ran off to... wonder who he'll meet... the damsel always finds trouble sooner or later I guess...


	7. Jackson's Inadvertent INDIANA JONES Audition

Jackson didn’t know where he was running to but he sure as hell knew what he was running from. He dashed through the familiar hallways of the dorm, racing down the stairs with tears obscuring his vision, and ran to the only quiet space in the entirety of the building: the first floor.

The first floor of their dorm is made up of single rooms and a central living room located in front of the entrance/exit of their dorm. It was usually packed with people either trying to get their studying done or with people waiting for the arrival of their friends. However, after the dorms were put on lock down and nobody was allowed in or out, the once populous living room became still and quiet with most of the light stemming from cracks between the hastily taped up blockades of old cardboard and newspapers.

With the area the school was located in, the dorms were fitted with bulletproof windows even before the villains arrived, since Chicago was known for its high gun violence statistics. But even this coincidental layer of protection didn’t make the students feel safer. Most of the people living in singles decided to move into their friends dorms on the upper levels after a couple of scary incidences where outsiders were found peeking into the windows. Anybody found walking outside at this time was assumed to be either a criminal or associated with a group of bandits, eager to scout out their next looting area. So far, no outsider has had any luck in their quest to break into the building, but nobody on the inside was willing to take any chances.After the first couple of incidences, students took it upon themselves to block out the windows and barricade all entryways with as many desks, chairs and other big, miscellaneous furniture items they could find, making the first floor seem like the aftermath of a zombie apocalypse: abandoned, dark, and just a tiny bit eerie.

Jackson usually hated the quietness of the first floor, the silence too suffocating for his extroverted personality to handle. However, given the circumstances, Jackson knew that the first floor would be the last place anyone (read: Mark) would look for him. Everyone was creeped out by the first floor, even during the daytime, and it was an unspoken agreement that nobody would venture down there at night… But here Jackson was. On the first floor…. Late at night…

The dimly lit hallways made it almost impossible for Jackson to see where he was going as he stumbled in a random direction down one of the hallways. There were random papers and an assortment of diverse objects strewn around the floor, perhaps from the aftermath of one of Jackson’s attempts at a party during the first day. Even though Jackson’s sneaker clad feet would be mostly impervious to any sharp object that was haphazardly left lying around, he still made sure to lightly step around any object he encountered. His subconscious reasoned that if he broke something important, the owner would feel just as crushed as he was at the moment.

The further Jackson walked down the hall, the colder it got. The heat was turned off on the first floor to save electricity and with every step Jackson could almost feel the heat leaving his body. As his tears dried and his emotions settled down, the fencer felt a mixture of shame and anger take over. Shame because of the cowardly way he ran out and anger at Mark putting him in such an uncomfortable position in the first place. It’s not like this whole thing was Jackson’s idea! He was mostly against the entire plan from the beginning!

The villains were the ones who always put everyone in danger, no matter how the battles always seemed to draw the fight away from the general public. Even if they were being conscientious about the level of destruction they caused, it didn’t excuse the pain they inflicted on Mark during each fight. Jackson was the one who was always kidnapped, yes, but his injuries were - for the most part - superficial. His ego was the part of himself that took the biggest hit after every kidnapping, especially during some of the more ridiculous situations that caused Jackson to question how he had ever let himself play the role of the helpless princess in the first place.

After he was saved, or during some of the rarer times he escaped, Jackson took it upon himself to always be the one to pick Mark back up, clean the hero’s wounds, take care of him, and help him recover enough to get back on his feet. Jackson acted as Mark’s personal nurse and was always the first to see how severe Mark’s wounds were; Jackson even took some basic first aid and beginner EMT training at a nearby community college in order to help after the more arduous battles Mark had. With Mark’s super healing, there were never any scars left from the fights. Even so, sometimes all Jackson could see when he looked at Mark was the memory of all of the lacerations, bruises, and cuts Mark had to endure to protect him and the city. It just wasn’t right.

Jackson shook his head and kept walking forward, trying to push those thoughts away. He had faith in Mark, and he could see how there might be more to the villains that what they currently see. However, it was hard to keep acting like a supportive friend if the person he had to put his trust in was acting like a complete idiot! Jackson wasn’t blind! He could see how the dorm lock down affected Mark, and he knew his best friend was just torturing himself when he tuned in to see the news every night. On more than one occasion, Jackson had seen Mark’s hands glow a faint red as they listened to a particularly bad news report. He faintly remembered Mark explaining that his body generated more energy than a regular human, and that if he wasn’t able to burn off the excess energy somehow, his powers would get even harder to control. He had never seen it for himself, however, until he was being indirectly threatened with it during their argument.

Mark’s abilities never induced an ounce of fear in Jackson. While it was a little weird to know that Mark was infinitely stronger than him (even though Mark was built like a twig), and could even kill Jackson using only a single pinky, the thought of fleeing from the danger Mark’s gift potentially brought never once crossed Jackson’s mind. Mark never used his powers unless he was forced to, and Jackson knew that if there ever was a time Mark was coerced to use his powers on Jackson, it would be in a life or death situation. Even then Jackson doubted Mark would be able to cause him any harm. But being forced against the bed frame, watching the anger and hurt play out in Mark’s eyes as he screamed at Jackson, and feeling the slight pinpricks of heat against his hips… that was the only moment Jackson had ever felt scared of his best friend.

A sudden shiver wracked his body, drawing Jackson out of his troublesome thoughts. Still clad in only a thin, black T-shirt and ripped, dark-wash jeans did nothing to prevent the cold from seeping in. As goosebumps prickled up and down his arms, his hair standing on end, Jackson elected to put on the sweater he had hastily grabbed from his closet. Loosening his unconscious death grip of said item, Jackson swore under his breath as he held up the black fabric with both hands.

Just his luck that he grabbed the ONE sweater that inadvertently caused some of the problems in his life! This was the sweater he wore to Bambam’s stupid pre-midterm party; a gag gift that Mark bought him that Jackson KNEW Mark only bought with the assumption Jackson would never wear it (so of course, Jackson put it on and proudly flaunted it the very next day). THIS was the sweater that sparked the conversation between him and his then-acquaintance/classmate Yugyeom, the sweater that Jackson may have gotten a bit too tipsy in, the sweater that provided a layer of restraint by preventing skin-to-skin contact with the admittedly handsome, young dancer as they became closer and closer throughout that night.

This was the sweater that ended up on the floor as Jackson’s allowed the other to become _more than an acquaintance…_

“AAAaaaaaaAH!” Jackson softly yelled, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing the sweatshirt on over his head, embarrassment curling low in his gut as he tried to push down the memory of that night. He still couldn’t believe that he allowed that night to happen! While he doesn’t want to admit that Mark may have been right in that he was emotionally compromised in the weeks following Mark’s rejection of Jackson’s confused feelings for the older ( _who hasn’t had a crush on their best friend, right?!_ ) that still wasn’t to blame for the past couple of days where Yugyeom and Jackson became even closer and more… intimate… than expected.

Softly hitting his head and willing the confused emotions swirling around inside to quiet down, Jackson continued on his path and decided to ignore whatever problems he may come to have with the acquaintance-turned-lover-turned-(friend?) and focus on his current predicament which was…. Where in the hell is he?

“ _Oh crap… I must’ve been walking for longer than I expected because I have no idea what hallway I’m in.”_ Jackson thought to himself as he stumbled around the corner and into a dead end that only had a single door at the end of the hall.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me… Seriously?!” Jackson grumbled to himself, looking at the suspicious looking door with trepidation as the hallway light flickered above him “This is seriously like a terrible horror movie!”

Jackson was afraid of basically… everything. He was terrified of horror movies, roller coasters, spiders, bugs… basically anything adrenaline inducing that wasn’t high-intensity situations like a fight or athletics. Even so, at this moment Jackson was cold, miserable and still desperate to get away from the awkward situation that would no doubt be waiting for him if he turned around now. So with a clenched jaw and a spike of determination welling up, Jackson stomped towards the unsettling door and quickly turned and yanked the door handle open to reveal an…

Unkempt Janitor’s closet.

With a sigh of relief, Jackson’s shoulders slumped down from the rigid posture he unknowingly assumed as the fear ebbed away. With only a mop, a rack of cleaning products, and an overturned bucket at the center of the small closet, Jackson found relief as he realized that he had stumbled upon the perfect hiding place for the time being. Just in time, too, as the faint yelling of his name from the same hallway he had traversed moments earlier ricocheted off of the bare walls.

“Jackson! Hey, are you down here?”

With a jolt, Jackson recognized Mark’s faint voice as the latter kept calling out to him… from the _first floor!_

 _“How did he find me so quickly?!”_ This panicked thought spiked a sense of urgency in Jackson as the fencer quickly dove into the closet and shut the door behind him, realizing a second too late he used way too much force. With a sinking feeling in his chest, Jackson could only listen as the slamming of the door reverberated down the empty hallway, no doubt alerting Mark to his presence on the same floor.

“Jackson? Is that you?”

Mark’s yell became even louder, his footsteps increasing in sound as Jackson listened to the other jog down the same path. Frantically, Jackson felt around the now darkened closet for a place to hide, anxiety clawing at his throat. He wasn’t ready for ANY conversation about feelings yet, whether it had to do with his and Mark’s relationship, with Mark’s feelings, or even worse; his… _affiliation_ with Yugyeom when he didn’t even know what it was yet, other than a mutual physical relationship during a tough time…

_“Damn Mark! That bastard was right that I’m basically_ _allergic_ _to any emotional talk ... crap!”_

Deciding to deal with that little tidbit of information on another day, Jackson began searching the inside of his self-imposed hideaway for a light or a good place to hide.

Feeling the desperation grow, Jackson quickly whirled around to face the back of the closet, forgetting that the mop bucket was right behind his feet. As Jackson stepped forward, his foot caught against the bucket’s handle effectively causing Jackson to trip and fly forwards. His arms blindly reached out in front of him in order to try and catch himself against something, _anything_ , to stop his fall. His left hand found the back wall first, his shoulder following not soon after in an awkward brace against the wall in an effort to catch his bodyweight, his right arm hitting the mop and knocking it over as he flailed around. Before he could even begin to recover, Jackson heard a faint _*click*_ sound as the mop caught against some sort of switch in the darkness.

As Jackson was in an awkward “lunge” position with his left shoulder holding most of his weight balanced over the upturned bucket, the mop knocking down everything on its way to the floor, Jackson hoped that the hilarity of the situation would distract Mark enough to ignore their inevitable conversation just enough for him to escape again.

What he didn’t expect was for the section of the wall in which he was supporting himself against to collapse outwards, causing Jackson to shriek and fall forwards with it. Jackson’s reflexes kicked in quickly enough and he ended up rolling out with the fall, his left shoulder flaring ad making him wince with pain as he rolled into a kneeling position onto the soft, cold grass outside.

_Wait… grass?_

Jackson’s eyes widened as he realized he wasn’t inside the building anymore. In fact, he wasn’t even inside _any_ building anymore! He was outside, kneeling on cold grass in moderate pain from the crash against the solid wall and subsequent unprepared, forced roll out when that once solid wall fell open… revealing the crisp October fresh air.

Stunned, Jackson slowly stood up, rolling out his shoulder in an effort to analyze his pain level. He turned around to look at the dark lake and the night sky, feeling the soft wind curl through his hair. He was so shocked at this sudden turn of events that he didn’t even realize the wall was moving yet again behind him.

In his periphery, he saw the wall rise up once more, slowly ... closing…shut….

Jackson jerked back around to face the mystery door and helplessly watched as his only means of entering the building was once again sealed up.

“No! Nonononononononononononono noNONONONO!” Jackson yelled, running back towards the wall and frantically running his fingers along the outer layer in an effort to find a way to reopen it, ignoring the faint burning of his bruised shoulder. The brick wall, however, gave no indication of ever reopening. Even as Jackson continuously ran his fingers along the outer edge of where he _thought_ that the door might have been, his probing fingers felt no seal or even slight indentation of a switch or a button he could press to reenter the building.

After five minutes of desperate searching, Jackson sighed and let his hands fall to his side, leveling a blank stare at the now unassuming wall. _“Just my luck…. I found an Indiana Jones secret tunnel by accident and now I’m locked out like a teenager who missed curfew… Just great!”_

With a sigh and one last frustrated bang against the wall with his good hand, Jackson turned away from the building and started walking along the grass back towards where he thought his room would be. Since his hoodie had no pockets and he wasn’t able to grab his phone in the escape, Jackson had no way of contacting friends to return back into the building. Even if he did, he knew Mark would be furious in the “I’m your best friend, I’m supposed to keep you safe!” kind of way. Even though they were still in the middle of an argument, Jackson knew that Mark would drop everything in order to help Jackson. Logically, it would make sense for him to seek out Mark since the guy could just swoop down and fly him back up to their shared lodging.

On the flip side, Jackson didn’t know if he was ready to accept Mark’s help again so soon after Mark complained about always having to swoop in and rescue him…

Which left only one other person that Jackson could ask… Even if that meant creating more of a divide between him and Mark if the latter were to find out.

The shivers that suddenly overtook Jackson’s body made the decision for him.

_“If I could figure out where my room is, I could find Yugyeom’s room and throw things against the window until answers and helps me in.Worse comes to worse, I’ll just give in and get Mark… ”_

With a sigh, Jackson began trudging towards the direction that he thought he came from, already knowing that he would get a lecture about safety from either one of the guys he was willing to ask for help.

Unbeknownst to Jackson at the time, he would not make it back to his dorm room that night as a pair of eyes curiously tracked the Chinese male’s slouched form from the shadows.

______________________________________________________________________________

_Mark heard a slamming door coming from the hallway ahead of him as he jogged through the abandoned first floor. He didn’t realistically expect Jackson to step anywhere near the first floor, but with the harsh words Mark said and the hurt he saw in Jackson’s eyes, he knew that Jackson would go anywhere in order to get away from him. However, Mark hoped that Jackson wouldn’t find himself in a precarious situation due to Mark’s moment of weakness._

_“Jackson! Are you over there?” Mark called out, pushing himself to run even faster in order to catch his best friend, to apologize profusely and reconcile their relationship. Instead of a call back, Mark heard a jarring crash from up ahead. Worry settled in the pit of his stomach and Mark began sprinting down the dimly lit hallway, not caring about the crunches beneath his sneakers as he sped over abandoned memorabilia on his way to where he thought Jackson was._

_Mark skirted around the last corner and was met with a single doorway at the end of his path. Quickly, Mark threw himself towards the single door, opening it and shoving the door wide open. Surprise colored his face as the faint light from the hallway illuminated only an overturned bucket, a fallen mop and a scattering of various cleaning supplies all over the floor with the cabinet that they must’ve been on collapsed against the wall. Disappointment at finding only inanimate objects inside the last open room filled Mark, who shrugged off the interesting scene before him as he slowly closed the door._

_“We must be getting rats in the building…” Mark thought to himself as he turned away from the door (and his best friend, who was at that time pounding against the side and begging to be let in)._

_A feeling of unease washed over Mark as he walked away, as if something was pushing him to turn back and figure out the scene behind it. Instead, Mark chalked it up to his powers acting out again and ran back towards the central dorm, still looking forwards for Jackson and not knowing he left him behind._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo... 
> 
> It's been a while?
> 
> Sorry about the wait! For whatever reason, I had a REALLY hard time finishing this chapter. I was going to do a flashback of Bambam's party and I LITERALLY have so many pages of my starting to write it, changing my mind but keeping the writing in case I want to use it and then COMPLETELY starting a new one... Does anybody else do that or am I the only one with MULTIPLE pages of various tidbits of writing that I created for this story but didn't use because *flow* but kept because they seem alright?!
> 
> Maybe when I'm done with the story I'll upload some of them.
> 
> Next chapter is planned, I just need to write it. Even though I haven't posted much for this story, I've been thinking about writing a Jackbum one-shot that I've had on my mind so the next update will either be within the week or .... sometime... later? IDK
> 
> ALSO, last time I said I'd have Jinyoung's origin story up and ready... and I do! I just don't know where to put it. I may end up replacing that interlude part of the story with Jinyoung's origin story because I sorta like the idea of their origin stories mixed in with the present day telling. Then, as we introduce characters and get to know them, we can have their background at the forefront of our minds? Is that crazy...?
> 
> Otherwise, TUMBLR is getting a heck ton of tidbits and origin stories in the near future!
> 
> NEXT UP: Who's following Jackson? What's Mark going to do when he realizes his best friend is in danger (again)? Where are JB and Jinyoung in all of this? All this (and maybe bambam and yugyeom again) in the next update!


	8. Interlude 2: Jaebum's Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude Part 2: JB

_JB had only agreed to move to Chicago for two reasons; One was because he wanted to leave his small hometown after his 14th birthday when he realized he couldn’t keep his technopathic powers hidden much longer. The second was because he wanted to get out of the small bubble his hometown provided, where everyone knew everything about everyone whether they wanted to or not. To JB, the relentless whispers about his peculiar personality and quick-to-anger characteristics labeled him as a freak in his hometown, with the neighboring kids bullying him relentlessly in order to see for themselves how easy it was to anger “the bull”._

_Kids can be really mean sometimes._

_Even though he was labeled as “aggressive” and “weird” by the people in his village, there were some aspects about him that showcased his gentler side like his odd love for photography. There was just something entrancing about the way life ebbed and flowed around him, something beautiful to be found in every still moment that could be portrayed elegantly through a single camera shot or, on the flip-side, many singular moments combined together in one video. Through all of the harsh words subjected on him by his peers, Jaebeom looked for the shots that captured the happier moments in life as a way to escape the present. Even when he was younger, he would constantly use his fingers to create a frame around anything that caught his interest, whether it was a flower tilting over underneath the weight of a bumblebee or his friends laughter as they swung higher and higher on the swing set._

_For his thirteenth birthday (the birthday that he realized every moment has to come to an end where even a picture couldn’t save it), he received two things; an old Polaroid camera stocked full of film and a goodbye note from his father, who had written a short explanation that he had fallen in love with the neighbor’s daughter and had fled the town to be with her._

_There was no note that said if he would come back._

_With the absence of his dad and his mother falling into a deep depression, JB fell deeper and deeper into the art, trying his best to capture the fleeting moments of happiness in every shot and bringing the best ones back for his mom. At first, he had hated the camera that mocked and reminded JB of his father’s heartless abandonment; it was really tempting at times to burn the camera as one last rebellion against his traitorous dad. But the passion for art won over his hate for his father and JB reluctantly kept the camera (he could never afford another one anyway). From that point on, Jaebeom kept the camera like it was the most precious treasure in the world and even picked up some odd jobs around their small neighborhood in order to continue to pay for film._

_This did not get past the older boys in his neighborhood at all, who upped their ante and began taunting JB even more by making fun of the ludicrous notion that photography was too feminine for a boy JB’s age to be messing around with. JB did his best to squash the growing feelings of hatred and malice for the neighbors whispering is he a fairy? , of the other boys’ relentless taunts, and for his father labeling him and his mother as a rejected “family” to everyone in their town. He was burdened with being ‘the man of the house’, a position his father should have stayed to fill, and his responsibilities increased tenfold with having to provide for both him and his mother during her debilitating depression. Then, dealing with the faux sympathy from his neighbors and bullying at school… without even realizing it, JB became full of anger, anxiety and rage for the way life had unflinchingly dealt him a losing hand._

_It almost came to a head one day, when JB’s powers were still at their beginning stages, where one of his tormentor’s jabs hit a little too close to home. Sometimes during JB’s nightmares, he can still hear the disgusted sneer of one of the older kids with the scathing comment, “Your dad would’ve stayed if you weren’t such a huge disappointment!” ringing in his ears as the hairs on his skin stand on end due to static lightly crackling around him._

_He remembers the weird feeling of sparks dancing across his fingertips as he balled his fist in preparation for a sucker-punch. He would have thrown it too if the power bubbling underneath his skin wasn’t quelled by his mother suddenly tearing out of their small home, having overheard the whole exchange, with venom in her words and fire in her eyes. This marked the first time that JB had seen her get out of the bed in months._

_Even with her shorter stature, none of the other kids were willing to duel with a protective eomma (out of both deep respect and blatant fear) and JB’s aggressors fled the scene in a split second, leaving both Im’s standing outside on the grass breathing harshly and fighting to regain control ( like mother like son, JB always recalled fondly)._

_The rest of that day was a blur in JB’s memory, in that he faintly remembers having a real conversation with his mom for the first time since his father left. Apparently his mom had, without him knowing, submitted an application to JYP prep with the pictures that he had given her throughout the past months. The reason why she had regained some of her energy was due to the fact that, out of thousands of students in the world, he had miraculously gotten accepted on that very day and had an open invitation to join the school to study Photography and Film._

_JB’s relationship with his mom didn’t magically repair in the months that unfurled between his acceptance notice and his first real day at JYP international prep. In fact, a HUGE part of JB wanted to stay and support his mother while the other part of him desperately ( selfishly ) wanted to get away from her and her haunted silences, her blank stares, her lifeless form mechanically going through the motions of basic hygiene and eating. As his powers grew and fired randomly, he also began to become afraid that he would hurt his mother in his desperation to breathe some life back into her aura and he was worried he’d shock her if he wasn’t careful. His worry became overwhelming as his control kept slipping and he became eager to separate himself from the person he loved most as fear threatened to overwhelm him again._

_Jaebeom sometimes thinks back to that day , when he had first noticed the sparks dancing around his fists as the dam inside of him almost broke underneath the harsh words spewed out of the other boy’s mouth, and he faintly wonders what would have happened if his mom hadn’t broken up the fight in time. That fateful moment was when his powers first broke free from within some hidden compartment of his physiology, spurred on by the wild emotions overtaking him in that split second. He never truly understood what forced the powers to manifest, why that day and why that time, but he never got a chance to really ask anybody as he did his best to keep his powers under wraps. However, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hide it for long and only chose to accept the invitation to JYP Prep at the very last second when a spark from his hand almost caused a fire while he was preparing dinner._

_The last day at home had his mother looking more like herself than JB had seen since he could remember. She was all smiles and pride oozed out of inn her ever pore as JB packed up his most treasured possessions and clothes into a tiny suitcase._

_The last time JB saw his mom was standing on their tattered wooden balcony, her skinny form looking lighter every minute as if a tremendous burden was slowly lifting off of her second by second. He recalled her smiling toothily at him as he entered the cab that would take him to the airport, remembers her waving furiously at him underneath the dazzling sunlight until she thought he couldn’t see him anymore, her hair a beautiful mixture of grey and reddish brown and her hands worn by time._

_In present time he can barely recall her face, but he remembers the split second feeling of foreboding as the cab turned the corner, the last sight of his mother standing on their porch looking angelic in the sunlight staying with him._

_A week later he got the call that his mother passed away_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it's in the past, I kept up with the italicized theme  
> Literally, gag me. I have major writer's block. I can't even.  
> I wrote this MONTHS AGO!! Months! And I've just been waiting to post because I still don't know if I fully like it or it's placement within the story line. At least you know more about JB as my character in this story. ADHJADIOASIJASIOAIOOJSJAKNJAF = how I feel at the moment. Please look back through the story because the first interlude is now replaced with Jinyoung's origin story (again, wrote it months ago and am just now posting RIIIIIIP!)
> 
> Any comments or kudos would be lovely and sincerely appreciated!


	9. As G-Dragon Says.... Why so Serious?

For the past couple of years, Dark Soul and Project J followed a pretty strict routine. Once every week (or every other if there was a school-related conflict), they would kidnap Jackson, wait until Red Dragon noticed, distract said hero while they prepared for their battle, and eventually duke it out in the city streets. Sometimes Red Dragon would win. Other times, the pair would ALMOST win. It was a pretty familiar routine at this point.

This started around Jinyoung’s freshman and JB’s sophomore year at JYP Prep. On the anniversary of JB’s mother's death exactly one week into the school year, Jinyoung had stumbled into their shared room to find JB crying on the floor as tiny zaps of lightning radiated from his body like Jaebeom was the epicenter of a cloudless thunderstorm. As Jaebeom’s sobs got worse, so too did the power of his lightning and it took all of Jinyoung’s coordination to avoid getting hit as he made his way over to Jaebeom in order to act as a supporting figure for the older to lean on. It was lucky for JB that Jinyoung was the one who found him, since who knows what would have happened to Jaebeom if a normal human saw what he could do. From then on, Jinyoung and JB became almost attached at the hip. Jinyoung had finally found someone who could relate to his sucky past experience with his superpowers while JB found someone who he could always trust to calm him down from his so-called “temper tantrums” (he knew he had some anger issues, but he had also been through hell too so it’s sort of a given). The two never spoke of JB’s loss of control ever again, but both made the silent promise to be more careful from them on…

Of course, we all know that that didn’t happen.

It was actually Jinyoung who suggested the idea that the two of them should sneak off campus at night to practice honing their abilities. The younger had noticed that both of them had problems controlling their powers after long periods of disuse; things around Jinyoung would randomly (and very obviously) start to levitate while JB started “kill” every technological thing he touched in uncontrollable shocks (JB had to buy four new phones in a matter of weeks. The AT&T people never looked at him the same).

What started out as an innocent desire to “blow off steam” every once in a while turned near deadly when JB and Jinyoung accidentally blew up an undercover cop car. They thought they had found an abandoned, dusty Ford on the side of the road but (as they’d figured out soon enough) it turned out to be an agent’s car he had evacuated after it stalled and died on him. The cop had left the vehicle in order to call for help, but JB and Jinyoung didn’t know that when they proceeded to use the car as practice for turning devices on and off with just a snap. When the car’s wiring and JB’s electric shock intermingled, the sparks created caused a … _slight_ explosion and the cop was not happy when he came back to see his car on fire and two suspicious hooded delinquents standing not too far off. 

What followed was pure self defense, in JB and Jinyoung’s opinions. The cop called for backup, JB and Jinyoung ran, and when they were corned in an alley by a bunch of cop cars and angry police pointing their weapons at them, they did what anybody else would do in their situation; they used their powers to respectively shock or throw cops and/or cars out of their way, dodged back from oncoming gunfire, and raced back to JYP Prep. 

When they looked at the news report that night, they saw that they were labeled as “unknown, powerful criminals who took out an entire squadron of CPD personnel” who would be “hunted down and brought to justice for the inhuman nature of their crimes.” This is when the two laid eyes on the figure who would become their archenemy for the next couple of years… Red Dragon. With an already equipped super suit, Red Dragon was able to step out from the shadows and announce his allegiance with the CPD to try to capture the two unknown individuals. Red Dragon had stepped onto the mantle as the hero of Chicago, a figurehead that people could feel safe knowing was out there to battle the unknown evils of the world.

While JB and Jinyoung couldn’t believe that there was ANOTHER person with unnatural abilities, they REALLY couldn’t believe that another superpowered mistake had cost them their relatively “good standing” with society… again. They never got the chance to proclaim their innocence and, while they were lucky their faces were never exposed to any police or cameras, they both knew they couldn’t suppress their powers for long until it got out of control again; that was how they got into the entire situation in the first place!

So they both resigned themselves to their new labels; Since Jinyoung was attending JYP as an engineering major, he was able to access the necessary materials and equipment that the two would need to begin their new supervillain lifestyle… And the rest was history.

* * *

Even though the villains ended up losing every time, they kept returning back to their lair and plotting the next way to take over the city. At first, it was because their pride screamed at them to demand a showdown, to show the city that they were a force to be reckoned with and that they were both more than all of the hurtful things they were labelled as. After the twelfth time losing, however, it became a habit that was almost… comforting to the pair. Yes, they’d end their day with bruises, sores and burn marks that would stick with them for weeks after. But fighting the hero provided them an outlet in which to fully utilize their given powers without shame. They never had to hold back with Red Dragon and after years of hiding their “gifts” from everyone else, even going so far as to lose their blood relatives due to their abnormalities, the hero provided a welcome outlet that they had been searching for to begin with. So even though they kept losing, it was an honest loss tinged with hope for self-improvement (something they both yearned for but will never admit) and a reluctant acceptance at their status in the good-evil hierarchy.

This time… this time was different though. This time, the steady balance between good and evil was shattered, the hierarchy of the world demolished and what was left in this new, unfamiliar environment was a sense of hopelessness and grief. Because the one person, the only person in fact, that stood in the way of Dark Soul and Project J’s (admittedly ridiculous) attempts to take over the city was dead. And the duo had no idea what to do next.

* * *

_A week ago:_

“This is what we wanted.” Project J said, but his tone was anything but certain of his statement. The two were back on the main floor of their “lair”, sitting side by side on their old couch, both staring off into the distance with unfocused eyes. The break in routine was so alien to them that neither could come up with a solution, both still in full uniform as if waiting for the real battle to begin. But the fight was over. They would never again stand toe-to-toe against their archenemy. 

For the first time in a long time, their workshop was completely silent. The warehouse they were in was usually bustling with activity after a big battle; the monitors would display the confrontation from different angles with Dark Soul carefully watching the videos, taking notes to improve their techniques. Project J usually took this time to make any repairs on his bots, the sound of his music and welder breathing life into the workshop. Plans/blueprints for the next attack would be drawn up and placed at one of the many tables scattered around the room, with crumpled rejected ideas littering the area near the trash cans. The remaining working bots would do their best to keep the area tidy for the two men but they’d usually end up getting in the way. This almost always led to Project J chasing after a bot with a soldering iron, Jaebeom laughing in the background as his partner screamed threats and obscenities at the machine that somehow managed to destroy a new project which it’s sensors interpreted as “unknown item. Dispose immediately.” 

But there were no repairs to be made today. No videos to monitor, no future battle plans to be made, no improvements to work on, no bots that Project J needed to reboot. Because they won. They actually won.

With his last words getting no response from the other on the couch, Project J continued on, “We’re going to have to make an appearance in the city, you know. Technically, it’s ours now… we need to start enacting _our_ vision and rules to make a society that reflects who we are.” 

Dark Soul slowly began to move, sitting up from his slouched position on the couch to lean forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Project J finally turned his gaze towards his friend, waiting and hoping the other would have an answer, a plan, even just a slight idea about their future. He would never tell the other, but Project J relied on Dark Soul for guidance and support, trusting that his best friend would come up with ideas that benefitted them both. Dark Soul was the unsaid leader of their dynamic duo, but at this moment the older looked more like a scared kid than his supervillainous alter-ego. 

Dark soul shifted and ran his hands up towards the back seam of his helmet, pressing the small disengage button on the headgear. He took it off of his head very slowly and let the helmet fall out of his hands and onto the floor beside him. Without the visor there to hide his face, Project J could see that Dark Soul looked even worse than what he imagined. He was almost sickly pale with a light sheen of dried sweat still clinging to his face. In the slumped position Dark Soul was in he looked more like a marionette doll whose strings had been cut than the strong, powerful man he once was.

“Alright… we’ll do that.” Dark Soul muttered, his voice gravelly from disuse. Project J jumped a bit, not really expecting an answer just yet. When he realized what the other said, his eyes widened in shock, unused to Dark Soul agreeing with him so quickly (or agreeing with him in general). Slowly, Project J reached out a hand to rest lightly on Dark Soul’s back in an effort to provide some sort of comfort to the obviously emotionally distressed man. He could feel the slight static electricity radiating off of the other in waves, causing his hair to stand up slightly. A shock caused Project J to jump and he quickly retracted his arm, wincing at the pain while shaking his hand slightly. 

“Don’t touch me, Jinyoung… not now…” Jaebum mumbled darkly, hands still hanging loosely at his sides as he curled into his legs, his hair hanging strategically in front of his face as if hiding his emotions from Jinyoung. Jinyoung scooted away, letting his friend have his space (and saving himself from the tiny sparks jumping off of JB’s body). The only other time Jinyoung saw his friend this… hopeless… was the anniversary of his mother’s death, and even then Jaebeom was more expressive than he was now. In all honesty, Jinyoung wasn’t quite sure what to do with this new side of Jaebeom and he hoped that, at the very least, Jaebeom would eventually snap out of his stupor.

While Jinyoung couldn’t fix the problem with Jabeom at the moment, the telepath decided to start to resolve the situation at hand. He couldn’t do anything for Jaebeom then, but he could start moving forwards to tackle their current situation. If Jaebeom needed him to take control now and steer them both through the mess that they made, Jinyoung would bear the responsibility. It was the least he could do to pay back all of the times JB had helped him. So, with one final glance at JB, Jinyoung hefted himself up off of the couch and began planning their official take over. 

_This is gonna be a lot of work_ … 

* * *

_Present: Friday 7pm_

Jinyoung and JB were back in their dorms, their lair shut down and closed off as the two tried to return back to their normal student lives at JYP Prep while also simultaneously running an entire city from their dorm room. For the past week, Jinyoung had taken over the government proceedings and had made their presence known to the best of his ability. He had put up walls of bots around the city limits to prevent people from going in or out and had other drones flying around to monitor and enforce their rulings. Jinyoung put the entire city on lockdown in an effort to keep people safely inside their homes as he tried his best to figure out _how the hell the movies made hostile takeovers look so easy?!?_ The villain knew that he was epically failing at maintaining order within the community. He could see through his bots that people were scared and that things were rapidly dissolving into pure chaos but he _didn’t know how to stop it!_ And the person who was supposed to be his co-leader, the one who was supposed to be _helping_ him make all of these important decisions, was emotionally MIA. 

Jaebum had not moved from the bed for the past week. No matter what Jinyoung did or said, JB had refused to acknowledge the other’s presence. The only time he sat up was when Jinyoung brought him food and water to eat, and even then JB moved mechanically and laid down again right after. It was as if JB had lost all of his purpose in life and there was nothing Jinyoung could do to pull him out of his funk. 

Now Jinyoung could be an understanding, caring person. He wasn’t referred to as a “mom” for no reason. But even his kindness had its limits and he was just about ready to tear his hair out in frustration for the lack of support/help he had received from his supposed best friend. Was that selfish? Maybe. He knew JB was depressed and that no amount of love or care Jinyoung could provide would magically fix that. But he was also just trying to run a damn city and he desperately needed help; help that he could (unfortunately) only get from the sad lump underneath the covers of JB’s bed. 

Jinyoung sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his black hoodie off of his face. He hadn’t had a chance to shower or even change his clothes in the past couple of days, too busy taking care of JB and _an entire city_ to even press pause for one second. His responsibilities to Chicago required constant attention and the only breaks he got he had to use to force JB to act like a basic human being. The red sweatpants and plain black hoodie he was currently wearing were basically a second skin at that point and his back and fingers ached from being hunched over his three monitors 24/7. One monitor kept flicking between different bots’ cameras so Jinyoung could keep track of Chicago and it’s happenings occurring anywhere in the city. The second was equipped with an AI that was coded to act as a “big brother'' of sorts; the AI would pull up any civilian-made search, text or call and comb through personal data to flag anything that seemed suspicious or threatening, which was really helpful for Jinyoung since he couldn’t be everywhere at once (It also was amusing to spy on his friends. He didn’t realize Yugyeom had THAT many pictures of a certain someone. He’d have to ask about Jackgyeom’s relationship again at a later date). The final monitor was solely used to keep track of and write the bots’ various codes to act as enforcers of the villain’s regime. All of this information gave him a headache, but even so he did his best to keep up with the constant influx of data. 

As he leaned back, hoping to take a quick nap-break, a sudden red emergency signal flashed on both his first and second monitor. Startled, Jinyoung quickly shook off his tiredness and pulled himself back towards the screens to see what his AI had found so alarming. A video played on the first screen while a voice message, sent only seconds ago, was highlighted on the other.

At first glance, Jinyoung thought that there was a glitch in one of his bot’s codes. It almost looked like a video of the time Jaebeom tried to use the first prototype of their shared escape hatch (it launched JB out of the room and almost broke his neck. Jinyoung still laughs when he watches JB’s look of utter terror as he sails through the air. It makes for good blackmail material when Jinyoung REALLY wants JB to do something for him).

However, upon closer inspection Jinyoung can see that the person in the video was decidedly NOT Jaebeom but Jaebeom’s crush, Jackson Wang. Who was outside. At night. During one of the most dangerous eras of Chicago’s history. After watching the other pound against the wall of their dorm, Jinyoung quickly rewinded the video to figure out how Jackson got into the situation in the first place and how he knew about the escape hatch.

After watching the (albeit hilarious) video of Jackson’s closet mishap, Jinyoung breathed a bit easier. _He looks like a scene from ‘America’s Funniest Home Videos’. At least Princess Wang doesn’t actually know why the escape hatch is there..._

When he went back to the real-time feed, however, his anxiety flared back up as the camera showed a very distinct lack of one Jackson Wang. Quickly shuffling through the rest of the camera’s stationed along the perimeter of the dorm, Jinyoung could feel his desperation rising as each feed failed to procure Jackson’s figure. 

“AI Lee, find me the last known sighting of Jackson!” Jinyoung whisper-yelled, rolling up his hoodie sleeves in preparation for his computer search, his heart-rate spiking as he did his best to remain calm. _Please, let Jaebeom stay a caterpillar for a little longer… Oh god, if Jaebeom finds out about this…!_

As “Lee” worked through the camera feeds from the dorm over the last couple of minutes, Jinyoung crossed his fingers and hoped that Jackson had accidentally fallen into the water or something. While the fencer was rarely ever uncoordinated, the times when he was were hilarious tales to be recounted to anyone who would listen. It wouldn’t be the first time Jackson had fallen over the pier. _At least I could get him out and back to safety easily!_

Jinyoung was proven to be oh-so-very wrong when his AI brought up the data log from 2 minutes ago that silently showed Jackson walking along the grass outside the dorms. Jinyoung watched helplessly as a masked figure raced up behind the oblivious screen-Jackson and football tackled the other. The culprit definitely outweighed the athlete and easily restrained the fencer by forcing Jackson’s hands behind his back. Jinyoung watched as Jackson struggled underneath his attacker, feeling sick as he watched two more individuals emerge from the shadows and congregate around the downed junior. One of them pulled a bandana out of his pocket and shoved it into Jackson’s screaming mouth while the other handcuffed Jackson’s wrists together. _An ex-cop, perhaps?_

The feed ended with the tackler easily picking Jackson up and slinging him over his shoulder. The burly guy held Jackson’s legs down and Jinyoung felt numbness take over as he watched the four disappear back into the night. Jinyoung stared at the screen in shock. Faintly, he sees the second monitor demanding his attention with the pulled-up voicemail blinking urgently. Jinyoung feels his hand moving the cursor to the play button, forgetting that the audio was active unlike the camera feeds. 

A muffled voice plays through his speakers and Jinyoung lets the sound wash over him. “Boss, you’ll never believe who I found! Me and the guys were just walking around the JYP dorms to try and scare some of those rich kids… when suddenly Jacob spots Red Dragon’s old flame! We’ve got that Wang kid! Maybe we can use him to ally with Project J or Dark Soul… I bet they’ll want him back after he escaped from them during their last battle! Either way, we’ve got an ace in the hole now! We’ll be back at base soon ( _Jesus, Jacob! Get a hold of Jackson or get James to knock him out, he’s fighting like crazy!)_ Uh… yeah. Ok I got to go, the hostage is being uncooperative. We won’t hurt him too much _(James, do something!)_ OKGOTTOGOBYE!”

The dial tone filled the small room as Jinyoung tried to process the information he was a witness to. He was so caught up in his monitors that he didn’t even notice the once lifeless lump on the bed slowly sit up. He didn’t see nor hear the covers get flung off of the bed as his best friend _voluntarily_ got up from his self-imposed shutdown. Jinyoung was so focused on coding one of his bots to find Jackson that he didn’t feel Jaebeom’s silent presence behind his swivel chair. What Jinyoung did feel, however, was his hair standing on end as static suddenly filled the atmosphere around him. Jinyoung barely had time to realize what that meant before his seat was suddenly jerked around, causing him to let out a tiny yelp of surprise. The surprise soon turned into palpable fear as the cause of his sudden change caged him against the chair. Jinyoung stared into the furious eyes of his best friend for the first time in a week and he didn’t know if the furious look on Jaebeom’s face was better than the emotionless mask the other had been wearing in recent days. As tiny lightning sparks danced along the outside of JB’s plain grey hoodie, sometimes shocking parts of Jinyoung’s exposed forearms, Jinyoung decided that maybe it would’ve been better if JB had stayed emotionless instead.

JB was dressed in only his favorite hoodie and a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers that he had been solely wearing for the past week. In any other case, Jinyoung would have laughed at JB’s snaggly hair and grungy appearance. But this wasn’t any other Friday and this wasn’t Jinyoung’s normal Jaebeom. Jaebeom rarely got angry at Jinyoung and Jinyoung would have been happy to spend the rest of his life not knowing what the full force of JB’s anger felt like. 

_I guess today really isn’t my lucky day_ , Jinyoung thought as he cowered, tucking his arms into his chest and pulling his knees under the chair in an effort to shrink down as much as possible. Logically, he knew that his superstrength would be able to easily throw JB off of him. But he ALSO knew that enraging JB any more would be bad for everybody as the other looked about one second away from exploding. JB’s body caged Jinyoung in, with his hands braced against the armrests and his torso blocking any escape attempts. Jaebeom’s head was still covered by his hoodie and as he lowered his head to get close to Jinyoung, Jinyoung wished that the hood didn’t make JB look so intimidating. 

Laughing awkwardly, Jinyoung valiantly tried to defuse the rising tension. “Sooooooooo… How have you been and how much did you hear?” 

Jinyoung had hoped that JB had not heard as much as he thought, but his hopes were soon demolished as JB _growled_ at Jinyoung:

“Tell. Me. What. Happened.” 

Jaebeom’s voice was hoarse from disuse, but that didn’t make his command any less powerful. Quickly, Jinyoung told the other everything he knew, his voice rising an octave every time JB furrowed his eyebrows and glared at him (he wished his voice didn’t go as high as it did at that moment, but yours would have too if you were faced with an angry JB!). When he was finally done with retelling everything that had transpired to Jackson, JB’s angry chin was jutting out in full force. Usually, Jinyoung would rib him a bit about his telltale sign of dissatisfaction, but Jinyoung valued his life a lot, so he kept his mouth shut and waited for JB to make his next move.

After keeping Jinyoung hostage for another moment, JB finally shoved Jinyoung’s chair back towards his monitor’s and marched away. Jinyoung was jolted from the force of the push, but he quickly tampered down his fear and got to his feet to face JB's turned back. He watched silently as JB stalked over to his closet and roughly shed his grey hoodie, almost tearing the fabric with his desire to take off the offending item. JB rummaged around his closet for only a second before grabbing an Adidas black tracksuit, shoving his limbs into the clothing items and heading towards the door. Right as JB’s hand touched the doorknob, Jinyoung made a split second decision and quickly outstretched his right hand in JB’s direction. 

* * *

Jaebeom really had no idea what he was doing. He had no idea what day it was or how long it had been since he had… **killed** defeated Red Dragon. The past couple of days were all a blur in his mind but in the last couple of minutes, one thing became clear: Jackson was in trouble and JB had to do something about it. Jaebeom had hoped that the one upside (if you could even call it that) of Red Dragon’s death would be that Jackson could finally be free from all of the pain that the villains had brought upon him. But after his brain clocked itself back in during the thug’s voicemail, after he heard that Jackson was still in trouble and that _it was still his fault…_ Jaebeom couldn’t control himself. He felt a bit bad that his first real interaction with Jinyoung since they took over the city was him scaring the life out of the other, but Jabeom could only feel a newfound purpose driving him forwards; he had to find Jackson and he had to do it fast before anything else could happen to him. 

He was just about to race out the door after changing out of his (frankly, disgusting) clothes when he felt an inanimate power stopping him in his tracks just as he was about to turn the doorknob. A harsh tug on his left ankle knocked him to the ground on his stomach and he clawed against the floor as he was dragged backwards by his leg, getting tangled up in the comforter and clothes he had discarded on the floor earlier. When the dragging finally ceased, Jaebeom thrashed around in an effort to detangle himself from the various garments and, once freed, quickly stood up and spun around, breathing heavily as white-hot fury boiled up within him. Jinyoung’s hands were clenched at his sides and Jaebeom could see the conflicting feelings dancing behind the other’s eyes, but he was too consumed by the thought of “Jackson in Danger” to think straight.

“What the hell, Jinyoung?! Let me go!” Jaebeom shouted angrily, giving his friend a heated glare that threatened retribution if Jinyoung tried anything again.

“Jaebeom, you know I can’t. You’re too close to the situation… just let me handle it.” Jinyoung spoke calmly and evenly, his posture stiff but defiant. What betrayed Jinyoung’s level-headed exterior was the slight tremor Jaebeom saw in Jinyoung’s hands. 

JB just scoffed and turned around again, “I’ve made my decision. I’m going after him!” He stormed away but he felt Jinyoung’s power stop his feet, preventing him from taking another step. 

Slowly, Jaebeom turned around and stared at Jinyoung’s outstretched hand. His eyes slowly trailed up Jinyoung’s arm and settled on the determined face of his comrade.The tremor was defined in Jinyoung’s fingers, yet his stare remained unwavering. “Jaebeom, please don’t make me do this. You know you can’t just waltz outside and display your powers without your suit. Not only will you expose yourself as Dark Soul but you’ll take me down with you! Just let me handle it, you’re still not in your right mind… please…” Jinyoung’s voice was hard but faltered slightly at the end, “ Don’t make me fight you… I need you to think this through… please, I need your help too...” 

Jaebeom saw Jinyoung’s shoulders slump at the end of his plea and in his heart, he knew that the other was just as tired and worn out as he was. Jinyoung rarely let his walls down but during the times he had, Jaebeom always felt a tiny bubble of pride in his chest at the amount of trust and respect Jinyoung felt towards him. Jinyoung was his first real friend and they had taken care of each other countless times during the past years. Usually, Jinyoung was Jaebeom’s voice of reason, the physical embodiment of Jaebeom’s subconscious. However, Jaebeom was unable to feel guilt as he charged his hands and raised his fists up to his face in as much of a fighting stance as he could with Jinyoung’s hold over his feet staying strong. 

“Don’t make me fight you either, Jinyoung-ah. Now let me go.”

The blue glow from his clenched fists further emphasized the look of pure betrayal on Jinyoung’s face before he collected himself and brought the walls back up, a mask of indifference pinned in place. Jaebeom felt the hold on his feet lift as Jinyoung dropped his hand. “Fine. I see you won’t let me change your mind. At least take a face mask with you so nobody knows it’s you. I’ll send you the coordinates when my bot finds Jackson.” 

Jaebeom watched as Jinyoung turned his back on him and shuffled back towards his rolling chair, collapsing onto it and stationing himself back on the monitors. Jinyoung opened one of the drawers on his left and tossed a clean, black face-mask at the older. Jaebeom let the power fade away back into himself as he caught the mask right before it hit his face. Quickly stuffing the material into his pocket, the older started for the door again as Jinyoung began coding commands back at the monitors. As Jaebeom opened the door and stepped through the threshold, he turned around one last time and studied Jinyoung’s face as it was lit up by the computer screens in front of him. He opened his mouth in an effort to say… something that would explain why he had to go. But nothing ever came. Eventually, he forced himself to look away and silently shut the door, racing off towards the escape hatch to go and find Jackson. He knew he would have a lot of apologizing to do over the upcoming days to get back into Jinyoung’s good graces, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind as he mentally prepared himself for the inevitable fight he was voluntarily running towards… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow.... two updates within the week?  
> Crazy...  
> So remember how I said I actually had a lot of extra tidbits written but had to keep starting over and you know... writer's block? Well, the first half of this I wrote, like, six months ago but I hated it at the time and wrote three other possible paths that this story could have taken. But the other things I wrote I also hated and were a bit too angsty so I gave up. Thank god I kept the OG transcript cuz I went back through everything I wrote and realized "wait... this is actually ok" and then did my best to fix it up and TAH-DAH! Wrote all of this...  
> I probably should've waited to post but now I'm back on the (Jackson + damsel in distress) storyline and I'm excited OK?! We're heading towards JACKBEOM TERRITORY Y'ALL!! Finally, am I right...  
> Anyways like comment and subscribe or whatever the kids do nowadays  
> ALSO THANKS FOR OVER 1,000 READS! You guys are so cool


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